


One Hundred Below

by GrumpandtheRooster



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Eternal Freezing, M/M, Mentions of Kaikaina Grif, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-14
Updated: 2017-04-19
Packaged: 2018-05-20 12:26:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 23
Words: 30,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6006016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GrumpandtheRooster/pseuds/GrumpandtheRooster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the world froze over, causing what seemed like the second Ice Age, a group of survivors thought they were the only people left after the damage was done.</p><p>Unfortunately, they were wrong.</p><p>(under a new author; story created by peachycans)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Storm

The snow was, to say the least, intense.

The only window was slowly staring to pile up with white fluff, causing the scratches and cracks to stand out even more against the blizzard. Tucker looked around outside, trying to make out the outside world, but nothing could be seen but the endless dunes of snow.

It had been going on for a month.

A low growl emitted from his throat as he lightly hit the glass with his fist. He walked to the other end of the room and pushed aside a hanging sheet that was supposed to be a makeshift door.

He looked around the room and noticed his friend in the corner of the room, putting a plate down for his husky. He pet the dog’s head before plopping down on the couch beside the bowls.

“Getting any better out there?” Grif asked Tucker as he slung his arms over the back of the couch, raising an eyebrow at the latter’s annoyed expression.

Tucker scoffed, “Little by little, but it’s not enough yet. And we need to go out hunting, gathering, or _something_ soon or else we’re going to have to start rationing everything we’ve got.” He mumbled the last part, walking over to the fire they had in the corner of the room. Grif watched him as he took off his snow gloves, rubbing his hands in front of the nice and warm heat.

“Well, I think that rations should be based on our proportionate size.” Grif said, gaining Tucker’s attention once more, “Because you’ve got some muscle, sure, but you’re pretty lightweight. And then…” Grif gestured his hands around the large amount of chub of his stomach underneath his orange winter jacket. “Just gotta have a little more to fill all this in, you know?”

Tucker narrowed his eyes. “Yeah, that’s not happening.”

Grif chuckled. “I think it’s pretty fair.” He went over to their rusty fridge and opened it to get a water bottle. The inside was packed with snow and ice that was supposed replace the cooling system it once used many, many years ago. “Kai and I will go out tomorrow if the snow lessens up even more to get food and more supplies.”

As if on cue the husky across the room barked, finishing her food and padding around the concrete floor of the bunker while wagging her tail enthusiastically.

“Ugh, fine. But don’t bring back another rotten bag of snack cakes. I thought you were going to die the last time you ate those things, dude.” Tucker told him, putting his gloves back on and zipping up his jacket. “Wasted a lot of our medical supplies on that stunt.”

He grabbed his fluffy string hat off of the counter and put it on his head, shoving Grif’s arm as he started to walk to the next room over. “It’s starting to get late, so I’m going to sleep. See you in the morning.” With that, Tucker passed through the curtain to the next room.

Grif sighed, long and drawn-out. He picked up a rust-colored comforter and afghan off of the floor and laid down on the couch, kicking off his construction boots and tossing the two blankets over himself.

The Hawaiian pulled the furry hood of his jacket over his head and got settled in, closing his eyes. A moment later he felt something heavy jump up onto the couch, sitting on his chest. He cracked open an eye to see Kai, her ears flat against her head as she stared at him. Grif rolled his eyes, pulling an arm out of the blankets to rub the husky’s head. The dog perked up instantly, getting settled herself before falling asleep. After a few minutes, Grif did the same.

*****

Grif felt like he was floating. Except everything was as cold as ice.

A jab to the stomach. It was a small push, but the freezing temperatures made it feel unbearable.

Another jab. This one was harder. He wanted to shout, double over in pain, but he couldn’t move. It was like he was left outside in the frozen wasteland that was the outdoor world.

…Wait.

“Hey asshole, wake the fuck up already!” Tucker shook Grif, still trying to wake the slumbering man.

Grif woke with a start, breathing heavily and squeezing his eyes shut as the light turned on above him hurt his eyes. He rubbed his face with a gloved hand, trying to rid of the sleep from his eyes as he sat up on the couch, throwing the blankets off of himself. Grif glanced around and noticed Kai circling around an empty food bowl once before practically jumping onto him.

The Hawaiian heaved as she placed all of her wait on his gut, happily panting and letting out a short bark. He laughed and rubbed her head, moving her off so he could stand.

“The snow finally slowed to a light fall. I’m gonna go fill up the water supply, you get everything else. It’s your turn, anyway.” Tucker said, picking up three large, old buckets off of the floor. He popped the seal on the door to the outside, slowly turning the knob, “There’s some bread on the counter for you to eat before you go.” With that, he departed outside.

Grif tried to eat fairly quickly. Kai watched him as he stuffed his face. He stood up as the last piece of bread was swallowed, wiping off the crumbs that had got caught in the scruff of his facial hair. He went into the storage closet, pulling out his heavily padded snow pants and boots and pulling them on. He grabbed his turtle neck and orange bandana off of the shelf and put them on as well, making sure he had everything he needed to stay warm before grabbing a fur hat that fell over his ears.

As soon as Grif opened the door outside Kai jumped out, prancing around in the heavy snow. She ran around a few times until Grif called her over with a whistle, brushing off a sleigh to carry back goods. He slung the rope over his shoulder, starting to trek forward through the snow. Kai followed behind, a happy look on her face as she fooled around in the snow around him.

“Of course you’d like this job; you’re not even doing much of the work.” Grif grumbled through the bandana as Kai ran ahead of him to the top of a snow dune.

After several hours of walking through the snow, Grif stopped and sat down at the bottom of a large cliff above him. Kai walked over, nudging his arm before sitting down in the snow next to him. She kept on wagging her tail as Grif relaxed, cracking his neck.

“Break time, Kai.” He said, petting her head. She immediately leaped up, her tail freezing in place. After a moment she barked and ran around the corner of the ledge, he call getting lower and lower the further she ran away.

Grif groaned and hauled the sled along with him, chasing after her, “Kai!” He yelled. The further he ran, the deeper the snow seemed to get. Eventually he saw her a good distance ahead of him, still barking. She paused and made a sharp turn left, a dead end in the mountainous region.

“Kai, what the hell?!” Grif yelled as he finally reached the husky. She paced around before barking, shoving her face into the giant snow pile that was practically enclosed around them. She began digging, tossing the snow in front of her in every direction.

The Hawaiian paused for a moment, confused before he began to help her out with her efforts. Eventually Grif made out something that looked like a door to a regular house. He dug down further and found the knob. As soon as he tried turning it the knob fell off, leaving a hole in its place.

He turned to face the husky next to him, staring at her for a moment before smiling behind all of his layers, “Good job, girl.” He said, roughly shoving the door open.

As soon as it was opened, lots of snow from outside fell into the main room, clogging up the entryway. Kai dug a hole to fit herself through, hopping inside. Grif followed her in, sliding down the mound of snow into what looked like a used-to-be living room. One of the walls on the other side of the room was completely caved in, a large pile of snow covering it up.

Grif was looking around when he heard Kai bark, already in the next room. He followed her in, recognizing the kitchen-like theme. There was a glass sliding door across the room that looked like it was ready to break, cracks running along the glass as snow pressed up tightly against it.

He immediately raided the whole kitchen, grabbing every last bit of food he could find. He did the same with all the storage closets, bedrooms, anything useful he could find. Some rooms were filled to the max with snow, the thinner parts of the roof not able to withstand the intense weight of the snow on top of it. The house was mostly cleared out when he re-entered the living room, although he noticed Kai barking as she ran up the hole they had created outside seconds later.

Grif rolled his eyes and followed her out soon after, giving the house a last once-over. He heard the kitchen glass crack some more as he was leaving, but didn’t think much of it.

When he climbed outside again, he saw Kai digging another hole a little distance away from the front of the house, still barking. Grif tied all of the supplies he’d found onto the sled and walked over to her, looking down into the hole she had dug. There was a white metal roof shining up at them, and Kai barked again as she kept digging around it.

“It’s a car, Kai.” Grif sighed. “We can’t use that.”

Kai barked again, padding her feet on the car’s roof. The husky flattened her ears against her head, her usually happy demeanour entering an annoyed state. Grif rolled his eyes, trying to dig out the door. “If it will make you happy, I guess.”

After some time, Grif managed to dig out a hole big enough to see the front and back window of the car. Kai jumped in, pressing her nose up to the car’s window. It was covered in a thick layer of frost, so Grif tried to scrape it off little by little.

He clutched the edge of the frost again to peel off more when it cracked and broke altogether, leaving the glass now cleared.

Grif sat back in the snow while Kai barked. There was someone inside the car.

The Hawaiian looked over the person inside. They were wearing a winter hat and jacket, like they were going to try to make it out of their car, but didn’t get the chance before a massive amount of snow came down on them. Their lips were a light blue color, skin incredibly pale. It looked like they were male, but the glass was still a bit too foggy to properly tell.

“They’re dead, Kai. Probably from a few months back.” As he stood up, Kai started barking. Grif was about to climb out of the large hole they had made when she started barking louder, pacing around the side of the car. Grif groaned.

“You’re killing me here, Kai.” He huffed, looking into the car again for any sign of movement. He shook his head, standing up again. When he did, the husky persisted in her efforts to bark.

Grif climbed out of the hole, stomping over to the sleigh and sifting through the materials before grabbing a hammer and grunting as he carried it over to the hole again, “Y’know what Kai, one day your curiosity is going to get the better of you.” As he spoke, he whammed the hammer into the window, each hit threatening the shatter the glass.

Kai was still pacing beside him, barking each time he hit the glass. After the tenth time he hit it, the window shattered, glass and ice particles mixing together onto the snow beneath them. Grif put the hammer down and reached in, bringing his hands underneath the arms of the person inside and hauling them out into the snow.

Just as they were out the husky laid across their body, barking and snuggling closer into the person’s jacket.

Grif looked them over once, pulling down the person’s scarf to expose their neck. Hesitantly, Grif took off his glove, hissing at the bitterly cold air that surrounded his now exposed hand. He pressed them to the person’s neck, trying to find any sort of pulse for Kai so they could get back before sundown.

He looked up at the sky, already starting to dim. Grif cursed loudly. Just as he did, he felt a small thump on his fingers.

Grif instantly reeled back, staring the seemingly lifeless body in front of him. After a moment he put his fingers back where they had been on their throat. He was met with several slow thumps. A pulse.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you like this. Be sure to check out the author of chapters 1-4 peachycans.  
> If you liked it, feel free to leave a comment or kudos. I always reply to comments!!


	2. Lights

“No fucking way.” He grabbed his hammer and threw it up so it landed outside of the hole. “C’mon Kai, we’ve gotta get back now. It’s going to be dark in less than an hour, so get ready to do some night walking.”

The dog barked, running out of the hole and over to the sleigh. Grif carried the body out to where Kai was running around. He grabbed a harness out of the original supply bag, catching Kai and putting it on her. They didn’t have a particularly heavy load to carry, and he knew she could handle it while he carried the unknown person back to the bunker.

Grif zipped up the person’s jacket so it was covering most of their face, bringing the hat down so it would cover their eyes. It was the best he could do for them since there was no way he could ensure this person would survive the few hours it would take to get back. Whoever this was, they weren’t exactly well-padded like he was. And even he was pretty cold at the moment.

It was just then that Grif looked back, noticing the sun had started to set, “Tucker is gonna be pissed when we get back.” He mumbled, putting the person down again after he threw the hammer back onto the sled.

He reached into a bag and pulled out his ski goggles, fastening them over his eyes so he could see through the snow.

“Let’s go, Kai!” Grif yelled as he secured his grip on the person, snow beginning to fall from the sky a little heavier than it had been when it was brighter out. It was starting to stick to his jacket as he tried moving in the snow as fast as he could.

The husky was already a good distance ahead of him with the sleigh, barking like mad at them as she shook a light layer of snow off of her fur. Grif tried running through to snow but stopped when he realized that he would just run out of energy faster doing that.

Once he caught up to Kai, Grif, and the dog began keeping pace with each other, making it over dune after dune of snow. Kai stayed silent for most of the journey back the first two hours but started barking again when she tried to shake more snow off and it wouldn’t let go.

Grif held the body in his arms tightly as he brushed the snow off of the husky’s fur, continuing on as another blizzard started to set in.

Their travel was slowed because of the snow coming down harder and harder. Darkness had consumed the sky a few hours beforehand, and Grif had lit a small gas lantern and tied it to the sled so he could see where they were going.

“Almost there, Kai. Almost there.” Grif told the dog as he hefted up the body in his arms once more. Just then Grif saw a small flickering light in the distance.

Kai immediately ran for it, and Grif tried to do the same. He tripped over in the snow a few times, shivering like mad at the intense level of cold the outdoors had taken on. He squinted ahead of himself, the light of the bunker flashing in and out every couple of seconds.

He pulled himself up off of the ground, falling forward as he made it to the bunker’s entrance where Kai was. She was digging the light out every time snow filled it up.

Grif placed the body in the snow next to himself and started digging out the door, swearing profusely, “Kai, watch them.” He said to the husky, gesturing at the body he’d placed down. Kai immediately padded over and sat on their chest.

Grif managed to find the anchor to open the door after a few minutes of intense digging, but it looked like it was frozen shut. He grabbed the hammer off of the sleigh next to him, whacking the snow and ice off of the door before using all of his strength to open it.

It opened so suddenly that Grif fell into it, dragging a bunch of snow in with him. Tucker appeared at the other end of the room, racing over to him. “What the fuck is wrong with you?!”

Grif rolled his eyes in frustration, glaring at Tucker, “Fuck you too, now help me get the supplies outside before they get buried!” He snapped. Kai ran down into the bunker, thoroughly shaking off the rest of the snow on her fur.

Tucker, still in his snow gear, nodded and the two ran outside. Tucker grabbed most of the supplies while Grif only carried some, saving the rest of his strength to pick up the person on the ground and take them inside as well.

When Grif slid down, he dropped his supplies on the floor and slammed the door shut, turning it to lock it in place. Tucker finished dumping what he had on the counter before pulling his turtleneck down and giving Grif the most menacing glare he could muster.

“The job doesn’t take more than half a day, what the hell were you doing?! I needed some of this shit earlier, but- Hey, who is that?” He stopped himself mid-rant when he noticed Grif putting someone down on the couch.

“I have no idea; Kai wouldn’t go anywhere until I brought ‘em with us. She dug a car out from under eight feet of snow.” Grif told him, brushing the snow off of the person’s jacket.

Tucker walked over to the couch and tugged down their scarf, quickly glancing at their peeling nose and now purple lips. “Uh, whoever it is, they look pretty dead, dude.”

Grif took off his hat, bandana, and turtleneck, placing them in front of the fire to dry off. He didn’t look over at Tucker as he responded. “Well, they were alive somehow when I found them. Wouldn’t be surprised if they’re dead now, though.”

Tucker unzipped their jacket and fleece, huffing. “Well whoever it is, they’re breathing. Lucky bastard.”

“Really?” Grif asked him, raising as an eyebrow. He went back over and noticed that the person was, in fact, alive and breathing.

Grif reached out and pulled their damp scarf off, exposing their neck. He threw it over his shoulder and took their hat too, turning towards a bucket filled with snow behind himself and shaking the snow off before placing both items next to the fire as well.

“Damn, I was hoping it was a chick.” Tucker sighed, shaking his head as he looked over the man in disappointment. He sighed as he took off the guy’s snow boots, leaving nothing on the man’s feet beside fuzzy socks, “Well great, he’s probably a big-ass nerd too.” Tucker commented as he glanced at his colorfully patterned socks.

“Jesus Tucker, the guy isn’t even conscious and you’re already insulting him.” Grif laughed, shaking his head as he opened some food for Kai, pouring it into her bowl along with some water next to it. She happily padded over and started eating, practically shoving her whole face into the bowl.

Grif pulled a chair over to the couch, sitting on it as he inspected the man’s face. He had wild, curly ginger hair that fell over his face, the ends white from the snow. He was extremely pale, practically as white as a ghost. The Hawaiian assumed that may have been a side effect of being in the cold for a really long time. His lips were a bluish-purple kind of color, and the skin on his cheeks and nose was peeling due to frost-bite. He was surprised that the guy hadn’t gotten hypothermia.

“So, what should we do?” Grif asked Tucker, who was making spaghetti by the fire.

Tucker shrugged, “I have no idea. What I think is he either survives the night here or he doesn’t. I say that if he doesn’t, we should keep his body in the closet in case we run out of food, and we can eat him. And if he lives, if we run out of food, we’ll still eat him if we get that hungry.” He thought out loud.

Grif scrunched up his nose. “Okay, first of all, that’s disgusting. Nobody likes the smell of a rotting corpse. Secondly, that’s not gonna happen. More numbers, more people to get shit done, right? And you know I’m all about that carefree life.”

“ _Or,_ ” Tucker started, standing up from the fire to ground up some meat, “You like the fine ass of the guy and you wanna keep him around for beneficial purposes,” He stated proudly, sending a wink Grif’s way.

The Hawaiian was unaffected by his friend’s statement. “Oh ha-ha, very funny. We don’t even know if he’s gonna live.”

Tucker held out both of his arms, a lazy expression plastered across his face. “Hey, you realize that you didn’t deny that you’d do that if given the chance, right?”

Grif scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Don’t be a jackass, Tucker.”

The rest of the night was spent in silence. Tucker finished making their meal for the night, and they ate slowly, trying to savor the food they had available to them. An hour later Grif was chilling out by the fire, a few stale marshmallows cooking on a small stick he had found.

Tucker walked over to him, patting his back, “You should probably sleep soon, it’s almost eleven and you went outside around eight.” He told Grif, yawning and heading to his room. “Night, dude.”

Grif nodded his head in Tucker’s direction as he left, pulling out his thoroughly browned marshmallows and chewing on them slowly.

When he gulped down the last one, he glanced over at the couch at the other end of the room. Its sides were wearing away, peels illuminated by shadows cast by the fire. The entire bunker seemed motionless, lifeless.

The Hawaiian glanced at Kai sleeping across the room in her doggie bed, looking like she was at peace. Grif moved over to the old reclining chair across from the couch, getting his blankets off of the floor and placing them on the arm of the chair.

He went into another room nearby, taking off his baggy jeans and putting on sweatpants. He removed his jacket next, hanging it on the rack in the corner of his room since it was still pretty wet. Grif took off three layers of shirts before he was left with just his t-shirt. Since he had to go the night without his jacket, he pulled on a black hoodie, then an orange one.

He pulled both hoods over his head and was about to close his closet when he saw his small maroon hoodie hanging in the back. After some thought he took it out as well, closing the chipped door and walking back into the main room.

Grif threw the hoodie over the big couch in the room, looking down at the unconscious man one last time before pulling the recline up and getting ready to sleep. He was about to get under and go to bed when he felt something rub up against his leg.

Kai stared up at Grif with wide eyes. Grif raised an eyebrow and kneeled down, petting her head, “What’s up, Kai?” He asked. The husky moved over to the recliner and tugged on the afghan on top of the comforter with her mouth, pulling it off the couch.

As Grif watched Kai, he was confused before she pulled the blanket off entirely and padded over to the big couch, dropping it on the floor in front of it and looking back at Grif.

After a second Grif’s mind clicked, and he rolled his eyes at her as he picked up the blanket off of the floor and shook it out, placing it on the man on the couch.

He looked over at him and then the dog. She was happily panting in front of him. He narrowed his eyes at her, “I get that you’re the hero of the day, but I am _not_ letting freckles over here become your new best friend.” He scolded, pointing his thumb at the man lying down on the couch. “Now go to sleep.”

With that Kai went back over to her bed to sleep while Grif got settled into the recliner, drifting off almost immediately, tired from the long day.

*****

Grif was harshly awoken by Kai jumping on his chest, barking enthusiastically. He slowly opened his eyes, petting her head. She immediately jumped off, pacing around the perimeter of the recliner.

Tucker was standing near the couch, staring at Grif. He was still a little groggy, so it took him a moment to realize that the couch was empty.

His friend’s eyes flickered away from him as he looked across the room. After a short moment, Grif did the same, staring at the red head sitting with his knees to his chest. He looked like he was breathing heavily, stressed out if his scrunched up expression was any indication. His lips were still pretty blue and his skin really pale.

He was also wearing the maroon sweatshirt Grif had put out the night before.

The Hawaiian immediately sat up, looking over at Tucker. They both shared a glance as they looked over at the man again. He seemed to shrivel up under their gazes.

Grif averted his eyes for a moment when he noticed there was a bit of snow surrounding the door. The new guy probably tried to get out before realizing that there really wasn’t a way out of the snow-packed door.

When Grif’s attention turned back to the man, the poor guy was shaking, _quivering_ for God’s sake, under their intense stares.

Grif stood up off of the couch, taking a step towards him. He immediately tried to push himself back even further into the wall, but it did nothing. He didn’t really blame the guy; they had been stuck in the bunker for years, and he and Tucker could only do so much to keep their appearances presentable. Grif himself had decently long, black hair that hadn’t quite reached his shoulders yet, and a good amount of scruff as facial hair. His tan from living under the sun all of those years ago hadn’t faded a bit.

Tucker was in a similar state as him, but he always managed to find a way to keep his facial hair to a minimum. He had long dreads that were always pulled into a messy ponytail and dark colored skin and eyes that could look menacing when he really tried.

The man was gripping onto the hoodie, eyes shifting around the whole room before turning back to the other two.

Almost a second later, he darted into what was Grif’s room, and the two heard a loud slam of the clothing closet door inside.


	3. Books

**Books**

_“Please, just… Be careful.”_

“How this guy is alive is a shock to me.” Tucker said, crossing his arms over his chest.

Grif shrugged, looking like he was trying to ponder something over in his head. “What should we do?”

Tucker mirrored Grif’s previous movement, “I dunno, but he’s obviously terrified of us. We could always go with my original plan.” He said as he grabbed one of his hunting knives off of the small table next to them, grinning as he wiped it off on his jacket.

“What the fuck is wrong with you Tucker, that’s disgusting!” Grif practically gagged at the thought.

His friend laughed, but stopped at Grif’s hateful expression. Tucker shook his head, throwing it back down onto the table, “I was just kidding dude, jeez.” He mumbled, pouting.

It was Grif’s turn to shake his head, sighing as he pushed back the curtain to his room. He walked over to his closet door, raising his fist to gently knock. “Guy, we’re just trying to help you. Are you gonna come out or what?”

Not a word was said in return. The Hawaiian was growing impatient.

“Me and my husky Kai found you in a frozen car underneath over eight feet of snow. We _saved you_. The least you can do in return is talk to us.” Grif told the man on the other side, leaning against the wall next to the door.

After a minute Grif was about to give up when suddenly the door cracked open an inch. Then another. It was open about halfway when the hand removed itself from the door handle. Grif stood up straight, waiting for the man to come out himself. He didn’t want to scare him again.

He really didn’t blame the guy for being terrified of where he was. Grif had no idea how long the man had been frozen in that car, and suddenly waking up in a snow-trapped bunker with two fully grown men that looked pretty scruffy would probably scare the living hell out of anyone. Except a professional boxer. Or someone like that.

But this guy? He was pretty scrawny compared to them. Even if he was taller than them, which Grif wasn’t sure of yet, that wouldn’t really amount to much at the end of the day.

Grif was getting lost in his train of thought when he noticed the guy had come out already, clinging to the handle of door like it was his lifeline.

Now that was one thing Grif didn’t understand. _‘The guy’s aware that the closet doesn’t have a lock on it, right? We could literally come in whenever we pleased if we really wanted to.’_ But Grif kept his mouth shut, awkwardly scratching the back of his head.

“Uh… Sup?” He asked. In retrospect, he probably could have come up with a much better opening.

The man opened his mouth, and then closed it. It seemed like he was having an internal struggle as of what to say to Grif. Grif let him think. He was sure that’s all the guy had done since he’d woken up.

“Why am I here?” The man said sternly, tightening his grip further.

“Well, ah…” Grif wasn’t exactly sure how to put the facts down smoothly, so he just spat everything out in one go. “Kai and I went out to look for supplies and food and she dug a car out from under the snow and you were inside, so I took you out and we were pretty sure you were dead but, well, here you are now.”

The man loosened his grip on the door. He seemed to be taking this new information in, letting his arm fall down to his side entirely, “I want to go home.” He said flatly.

Grif was taken aback for a moment. “Are you not aware that there’s a really bad blizzard out there? _We’ve_ been stuck in here for a really long time, and we only managed to get out yesterday. And now it’s back.”

Kai poked her head through the curtain just as the man narrowed his eyes, “You’re lying to me. Blizzards don’t last that long around here, and I want. To. Go. _Home_.” He pressed.

That statement made Grif’s cool snap, “Okay, you want to know the truth? Your house is buried underneath _ten fucking feet of snow,_ and that’s just from the _roof!_ ” You were literally about to get hypothermia, unconscious in a car that was in the same fucking state as the house! You’re lucky that I actually had the small twinge of decency to save your ass! Go out and fucking freeze to death for all I care, it was Kai over here that made me take you! I was gonna let you _die!_ ” He spat out, gesturing to the dog as he finished shouting.

It took a few moments for the man to react, although his reaction was silent. After a few moments he opened his mouth, “I- You- It’s-” He was completely speechless, practically struggling to make coherent words.

As he struggled Grif took deep breaths, trying to channel his anger. He glared at the man as Kai trotted over to him, rubbing up against his leg, “I’m going to eat some fucking food, come out when you stop acting like an ungrateful ass.” He said bitterly, roughly pushing the curtain back and moving over to the counter to make himself something to eat.

Tucker immediately seized the opportunity to talk to Grif again. “What the hell was that all about?”

Grif put an old plastic spoon in his dry cereal bowl, eating quickly, “Ungrateful little shit wants to go back home and cry to his mommy about his issues.” He said, calming himself down as he ate. Food always had the ability to make him feel better.

His friend laughed, leaning on the counter next to him, “Seriously?” He asked, picking the dirt out from under his fingernails.

“Yeah dude.” Grif finished off his bowl and placed it to the side. “I don’t really think he trusts us.”

“Well that’s to be expected.” Tucker commented.

Grif hummed, wiping his face off before turning around to see the man standing a few feet behind them, his hands awkwardly shifting in the pockets of the pullover hoodie he wore.

“Simmons.” He mumbled, looking away.

Grif glanced at Tucker. He returned his gaze to the man, raising an eyebrow. “Er, what?”

The man seemed hesitant to respond again. “That’s… My name. Simmons.”

Tucker snorted, still leaning over on the counter, “I’m Tucker, and he’s Grif.” He said, nudging his elbow in Grif’s direction.

Simmons shifted in his place for a moment, trying to avoid eye contact with the two in front of him, “I’m uh, a little hungry from uh… Being… In that car all that time.” He mumbled to the floor.

The Hawaiian made the quick decision that it would be fun to mess with the new guy. “Sorry, what was that? I can’t hear you over your intense awkwardness.”

He looked up from the floor finally, sending a glare Grif’s way. “I’m a bit hungry.”

Grif smirked, “Well I’d imagine one would be ‘a bit hungry’ after being locked in a frozen car for so long.” He smirked, but made no movements to get something for the man.

The red head in front of him made a whimpering noise. “Well, could I maybe have something to eat?”

Tucker decided the guy’s torment should probably end, so he opened a cabinet behind himself and grabbed a pre-made sandwich. He scanned it over for any mold or bacteria before tossing it in Simmons’ direction. Simmons caught it to his chest, immediately sitting down on the floor. He opened the bag before digging in.

Kai walked over to where Simmons was, nuzzling his legs. He paused, looking down at the husky with a hint of fear as she stared up at him. After a moment she laid down next to him, closing her eyes to take a short nap.

While Simmons finished up his food, Grif moved over to the fire place where he’d left his outdoor clothing from the night before. The fire had been extinguished long ago, only scattered remains of ashes left in the pit. Grif grabbed Simmons’ hat and scarf and tossed them in his direction as he set his own things down on the counter. “Those are yours.”

Simmons had finished his sandwich, holding the items in his hand before clutching them tightly. “Thank you.”

The Hawaiian grunted in response, kneeling down next to him so he could pet the slumbering dog on the floor. He noticed Simmons squinting down at the items in his hand. “Is something wrong with them?”

“Huh?” Simmons looked up and turned his head towards Grif’s voice, immediately pulling back at the close proximity, “Um… I-I can’t see.” His eyebrows furrowed before he sucked in a breath, “My jacket. Do you have my jacket?” He asked, fear lurking in his voice.

Grif gestured with his head towards a rack near the fireplace where Simmons’ jacket from the night before hung. The red head stood up and walked over to it, reaching into a pocket on the inside of the jacket. He pulled out a thick pair of square-shaped glasses, putting them on before sighing and rubbing his head. Tucker laughed from the corner of the room.

“I. Fucking. Knew it! He _is_ a nerd!” Tucker clapped his hands together, amusement taking over his entire demeanor. “Oh man, I feel so smart right now.”

Simmons’ face immediately flushed, putting his hands on his hips. “Having to wear glasses to see does not automatically make someone a nerd, jackass.”

Tucker stopped laughing. His whole expression became as cold as ice as he approached Simmons, the latter shriveling up under his intense stare.

“I can call you whatever the fuck I want.” He spat out. Simmons squeaked.

Grif could see that Simmons was as scared as all hell when Tucker reached out, putting a hand on his shoulder before giving him the biggest shit-eating grin, “I’m just fucking with you, dude.” He laughed, walking into his own room to put on his regular day-clothes.

As soon as Tucker was gone Simmons let out a deep breath he hadn’t even realized he’d been holding. He sat back on the floor again, holding his forehead.

“Eh, he’s not bad when you get used to him.” Grif said from where he was currently sitting on the floor, rubbing Kai’s belly.

Simmons looked over at him, “You guys are kinda assholes.” He stated.

Grif immediately glared at him murderously. “What did you just say?”

Simmons reeled back, but not a moment later he huffed under his breath and rolled his eyes, “Oh ha, that’s just so hilarious.” He said sarcastically, standing up. The red head looked around for a moment before turning back at Grif. “Do you guys by any chance have some books around here?”

The Hawaiian smirked as Kai wiggled out from under him and trotted around the room. “Fuckin’ nerd.”

“I am _not_ a nerd!” Simmons yelled, his voice raising in pitch.

Grif stood up, walking over to his room and gesturing for Simmons to follow, “Yeah, sure. Anyway, I might have something in here I picked up way back when.” He said as he went over to a few cardboard boxes at one corner of his room.

Simmons entered, looking around the room. “So, what’s this area?”

“This?” Grif asked as he opened one of the boxes and began sifting through it. “My bedroom.”

“Oh.” Simmons said, awkwardly standing in the middle of the room.

Grif didn’t find anything in the first box, so he opened the one next to it. To his surprise, the mystery box was full of hardcover books. They looked like the books that used to be kept around his old house. Mostly sci-fi.

“Hope you like sci-fi.” Grif said as he picked the box up and handed it over to Simmons. The red head looked down into the box, his eyes practically gleaming as he scanned what was inside. “Love it, actually.”

Grif put a hand on his hip. “You know, the more you talk, the harder you’re making it not to depict you as a grade-a nerd.”

Simmons scoffed, walking back into the main area and pulling out a random book from the pile. He moved to the couch, staring at it for a moment before sitting down, pulling his knees to his chest as he opened the book.

For a good portion of the day, Simmons sat on the couch and read the book he’d picked out. Grif lounged on the recliner, napping most of the time. When he did wake up he’d watch Simmons’ expressions change as he continued on in his book. Eventually he’d fall asleep again, and the trend would continue.

Tucker wandered in and out occasionally. One time he spent about an hour playing solitaire on the concrete floor before going back to his room again.

They ate dinner like they usually did, except this time with one more addition. Grif had gone back to his room to look through the rest of the boxes he had in there. There was actually some pretty cool stuff in some of them, but others were just full of garbage. He didn’t know why he hadn’t gone through them sooner.

Grif went back into the main area to grab some water before bed when he noticed Simmons lying down on the couch, asleep with the book open in front of him. Kai looked up at him from the floor.

Grif went over to him and tabbed Simmons’ page in his book, putting it on the floor next to the couch. He threw his afghan over him before taking the comforter to his room to sleep. He couldn’t stop thinking of one thing as he fell asleep.

Simmons _was_ taller than both of them.

_“Don’t worry, I will. See you later.”_


	4. Cards

Simmons sat up, yawning. He looked around the room, but no one else was up and moving. He assumed the other two were probably still sleeping.

The red head threw the afghan off of himself and stretched, shivering at the cold temperatures that surrounded his body. Simmons went over to where his jacket was, pulling it on quickly but leaving the front unzipped.

Simmons wasn’t quite sure what to do, so he decided to look through the cabinets for something to eat. There weren’t any breakfast items that were of great nutritional value in the storage, so he opened the fridge.

It was pretty packed. Simmons noticed there were a few eggs scattered across the top shelf, so he picked them off. He was about to close it again when he spotted a dirty old bag of shredded cheese.

Simmons put the items he had found on the counter and looked through one of the lower cabinets to see if the two had any pots or pans. He took out two small pans and put them down next to the food. After a moment of thought Simmons looked for the cabinet with the pre-made sandwiches he’d seen the day before. When he found it he took out two of the sandwiches, taking the bread off and putting the bags with the remaining meat in the fridge instead.

He grabbed everything he had taken and brought them over to the fire pit. He looked around it before he spotted match boxes scattered across the floor in front of it. Simmons took one and lit up the pit.

He learned how to cook simple meals from his mother many years beforehand, so he made a few omelets and toast out of the things he had found.

It was the least he could do for the two still sleeping. Especially the chubby one. He _was_ the one that saved him.

*****

Grif was sprawled out across his cot when he was awoken by an amazing smell coming from the main room. He got up out of bed and put on his hiking boots that were sprawled out on the floor near the bed.

The Hawaiian pushed back the curtain and looked around the room before he noticed Simmons by the fire pit. Grif watched as Simmons set up a small plate on the floor, placing a piece of toast on it, then a cooked egg, some cheese, then another slice of bread.

“Holy shit,” Grif said from his corner, raising his eyebrows as Simmons practically shrieked.

“Jesus, Grif! You fucking scared me!” He shrieked, trying to compose himself again to place more food on the next plate.

Grif ignored Simmons’ complaint, “Did you make this for us?” He asked as he walked over to one of the plates, picking it up off of the floor and inspecting it.

The red head huffed, finishing the last plate before picking up the remaining two and placing them on the counter. “Well, yes. It’s the least I could do…”

Grif took a bite and let out a low moan at the taste, “Fucking hell, this is the best shit I’ve eaten in like, forever.” He started taking more bites out of it, plopping down onto the couch and sighing.

“Um… Thanks? I think?” Simmons stood in the corner, awkwardly eating from his plate.

Just then Tucker emerged from his own room, sniffing the air before turning his direct attention to the plate on the counter. “Food?”

Simmons looked over at Tucker and held out a plate for him. The man immediately grabbed it and took a bite. He was gone after that, ravenously tearing into the neatly-made breakfast as he jumped onto the recliner and stretched out.

“You guys are animals.” Simmons commented, taking tiny bites out of his own food and trying his best to disappear into the wall behind himself.

“Come on,” Grif turned his attention back to Simmons as he finished off his food, “You can sit on the couch and eat. Y’know, not be an awkward nerd.” He said as he patted the side of the couch next to him.

The red head grumbled at the insult before walking over to sitting on the other end of the couch, stiffening his back as he worked on his plate.

“Where’d you get the bread?” Tucker asked. He tossed his plate onto the floor in the process.

Flinching at the clatter, Simmons huffed, “What I can only assume are your pre-made sandwiches. By the way, those are disgusting. And not at all nutritious.” He commented, mumbling the last part.

“Hey! We still needed them, though!” Grif pouted from where he stretched on the couch.

“Oh calm down, fatass. I’ll make something better for you guys sometime later if I feel like it.” Simmons finished his own plate and placed it on the stand next to the couch.

Grif was looking down at his chest. He frowned. “I’m not fat.”

Tucker let out a laugh. “A little bit, dude. A little bit. Fatty.”

The Hawaiian growled and tossed his plate at Tucker, “You’re not any better than me, dumbass.” Grif challenged.

“Hey, I can be smart! I’m not an idiot!” Tucker complained. He stood up and picked up his plate off of the floor and walked over to Grif, trying to whack him with it on his way to the rinse bucket. When he missed he kept trying to whack Grif, but the latter kept blocking him with his arms.

“You’re both idiots,” Simmons said from his side of the fight.

“Shut up, nerd,” They said in unison.

The red read stood up, raising his arms, “Okay, you know what, this is stupid I’m out.” Simmons hissed as he pushed back the curtain and walked into the next room.

It was after Tucker finally hit Grif in the head and walked away that Grif noticed something. “Hey Simmons, that’s my room you know!”

“ _Shut up!_ ”

*****

Grif walked into his room after he finished cleaning up the bulk of the mess off of the living room floor. He saw Simmons sifting through the book box he’d moved back into the corner before he’d gone to bed.

Simmons obviously heard Grif walking in this time, because he quickly glanced over his shoulder for a second before turning his attention back to his box.

The Hawaiian leaned on the wall and raised an eyebrow and nodded when Simmons picked up a book. “That’s also my sweatshirt you’re wearing.”

The red head paused, looking up at Grif, “Oh, uh. Sorry.” Simmons began to take it off before Grif waved his hand at him.

“Nah its fine, keep it. I never liked that color on myself anyways. Besides, you need more than just a winter jacket to survive around here. I dunno if you noticed, but it’s pretty cold outside.” Grif walked over to his closet and sifted through some of his clothes. “But you do need snow pants, boots- wait you already have boots-, and gloves to get stuff.”

Simmons glanced Grif up and down, “I can only assume that you don’t have anything that fits me.” He stood up, glancing down at Grif who was a few inches shorter than him.

“I might have something.” Grif was tossing his clothes on the floor at this point, much to Simmons’ dismay. The red head nearly jumped out of his skin when he felt something brush up against his leg, but calmed down when he saw it was just Kai panting up at him.

He was going to pet the dog’s head when a long pair of snow pants were thrown at his face. He glanced down at the thick black clothing before seeing that there was a red pair of winter gloves and blue tinted goggles that came with them.

“Thank you.” Simmons said, trying on the snow pants to make sure they fit his lanky physique. He took them off a moment later, giving Grif a small smile.

The Hawaiian smiled back, shrugging. They stood there in silence for a moment before the curtain flung open, Tucker leaning on the doorway with new clothes on than what he was wearing before.

“What have we got here, eh?” Tucker said smoothly before a snow boot was tossed at his head. He ducked under it at the last second.

“I was getting Simmons new snow gear, duh,” Grif grumbled, walking back out into the living room.

Simmons stood silently as Tucker looked over at him again, smirking. “I see everything,” Tucker whispered before waving his arms and hands and slowly walking back out.

Simmons’ face was beet red as he shook his head, bringing all of his snow gear up into his arms. He walked back into the living room and folded the clothes neatly in a pile on the floor.

He sat down on the floor across from the couch and watched as Grif passed out seven cards to Tucker in the deck of cards he had, “What are you guys playing?” Simmons asked as Grif put the pile in the middle.

“Go fish,” Tucker said, picking up his cards and looking at them, “Although if you want to play, we could just play BS.” He said, placing his cards back on the table when Grif picked up the deck again and handed Simmons seven cards. “Hit me.”

*****

Ten minutes later Tucker had almost the whole deck of cards in his hand, Grif sweating as he stared at him intensely with twenty cards.

His friend slowly placed down what everyone assumed to be an eight.

“BS,” Grif called cautiously.

Tucker flipped over the card which was, in fact, an eight. “Fuck!” Grif yelled, picking up the deck in the middle. Tucker cackled as he watched his cards go.

Simmons had his hands under the table so the two couldn’t see his deck, and he took a moment to fake-sift through his ‘pile’ before placing down a ‘nine’.

Grif put down a ten and Simmons put both his hands up, completely free of cards, “I fucking win, bitches.” He declared proudly.

“What?!” Grif yelled, then glared at Tucker. “Why didn’t you call BS on him?!”

“Hey!” Tucker yelled back. “I couldn’t see his deck!”

“You’re closer to him than I am!”

Tucker smirked. “Oh, are you so sure about that?”

“You know what I mean!”

While Grif and Tucker yelled at each other he had scooped up all the cards, shuffling the deck. “We can just play again, guys.”

Grif plopped down on the couch furiously before collecting the third of the deck passed to him. “Fine, but I’m gonna beat you cock-bites this time.

*****

Thirty minutes into the game and Simmons and Grif were both standing in place, Tucker staring up at them as he had the whole deck yet again, and the other two had one card each.

Grif kneeled down on the ground, placing down a four, “BS!” Simmons shrieked.

Grif took his card back, scowling at Simmons. Tucker rolled his eyes, putting down four fives.

Simmons put his card down onto the deck as a six, “BS!” Grif yelled louder than Simmons had. Simmons angrily swiped his card back.

Grif placed his last card down in the middle of the table again.

“B. S.” Simmons exaggerated, leaning his hands down on the table.

“Hah!” Grif yelled triumphantly, flipping the card over to reveal a seven.

“Fuck! I was so close!” Simmons yelled, throwing his nine down on the table and crossing his arms.

Grif burst into a fit of laughter and so did Tucker, wiping the tears from his eyes, “This is deception!” Simmons growled.

The Hawaiian breathed heavily on the couch, letting out a few last laughs before sitting up again, “Doesn’t feel too good to lose, does it?” Grif stood up and walked over to the kitchen area, opening one of the cabinets. “I need a victory snack.”

“Asshole.” Simmons huffed, gathering up the deck and neatly placing the card back into the small package they came in.

Kai barked at the other end of the room, running around before pouncing on Simmons and knocking him onto the floor. She barked once and looked over at Grif, who now had a small chocolate bar in his hand.

“Good girl,” Grif said, petting the dog’s head as she got comfy on top of Simmons’ chest.

“You guys are assholes.” Simmons heaved, reaching for his book on the table while trying and failing to push Kai off of himself.

Grif walked into his room and Tucker walked into his, leaving Simmons in the middle of the floor, groaning with his book in his hands, knowing he’d be stuck there for a while with Kai.

*****

A few hours later Grif walked out of his room again from taking a nap, yawning. He glanced around the living room and noticed Simmons asleep on the floor with Kai half on him, although she was now fully awake.

The Hawaiian shooed her off and picked Simmons up off of the floor and put him down onto the couch, sitting next to him as Grif really had nothing else to do than just watch him sleep and wait until he woke up.

*****

_"Where are you?! Answer me!"_


	5. Cold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With supplies running low, Tucker encourages Grif and Simmons to go out to look for supplies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First chapter by thew new author!! I hope you guys like it and it doesn't jar with the previous style too much, though I think I went a bit more of a descriptive route. Anyway, I'm finally finished with the other fic, which means I'm working on this one now. Join me won't you?

It was a cold morning in the bunker, which meant that it had snowed outside during the night, covering the bunker in more snow. Tucker stretched in his bed in an attempt to wake up, clicking several vertebrae in his back in the process. He stepped onto the cold concrete floor of the bunker and left the room which he had allocated as his own. It was next to Grif’s, and he noticed that Simmons had settled there too; though still on different beds, which he noted with a sense of bitterness as he wasn’t able to tease Grif about it. 

Tucker felt his stomach growl loudly and followed his instincts to the designated kitchen. He opened several cupboards, eventually realising that he wasn’t going to find anything. That was a side effect of living with two other people, and one of them being Grif. Tucker headed towards the underground storeroom, turning on the lights before heading down the stairs. Tucker sighed when he saw the depleted level of food in the store room, they needed to go on another supply run. Especially as last time they came backwash no food and an extra person. 

As Tucker was picking up a box of cereal, he felt Kai’s wet nose rub against his arm, which meant that Grif was up too. He stroked Kai’s head and called her to walk with him up the stairs and out of the storeroom. He clicked the lights off and walked towards the kitchen where he found Grif and Simmons. 

“Morning love birds,” Tucker said when he waked into the room, Kai’s feet tapping on the ground behind him.  
“There’s no food,” Grif said, making it a point to loudly close an empty cupboard.   
“I know,” Tucker said, brandishing the box of cereal “Our stocks are low too. We might have to go on another supply run.”  
“Well I did it last time, so I’m not going to again,” Grif said.  
“Yeah and you came back with this,” Tucker said pointing at Simmons “No offence.”  
“I’m still offended,” Simmons said.   
“It’s your turn,” Grif said.  
“I think it’s time Simmons starts pulling his weight around here,” Tucker suggested.   
“Last time he was outside he almost froze to death in a car” Grif reminded him.  
“So you should go together,” Tucker said.  
“Why don’t you go together?” Grif asked.   
“You two have a … closer connection,” Tucker said.  
“I don’t mind,” Simmons finally said. Grif sent him a frustrated and betrayed look and left the room whistling to get Kai to follow him.  
“That signal goes for you too kiss-ass” Grif called. 

Simmons went to Grif’s room, he saw Grif changing out of his casual bunker clothes and into his thermals. He stuttered out loud, when Grif was suddenly shirtless in front of him, and turned around blushing. He focussed on his half of the room and got out the clothes that Grif had given to him. As he was putting them on he could smell Grif on them, and shook the fact that he knew that out of his head. When he turned to Grif again, he was fully dressed. Both were very warm as they walked through the bunker. When they opened the air tight door, though, they were grateful for all the heat they could get. 

The cold still managed to bite the areas of Simmons’ face that were exposed to the cold. Grif’s fingers were beginning to grow cold at the fingertips through his gloves. The only one who seemed to be at home i the cold, was Kai, who was bounding through the snow merrily, changing directions when she caught a scent. Grif and Simmons struggled through the snow, creating knee high trenches as they waded through the soft, freshly fallen snow. The surroundings were all white. They were on an open expanse in the outskirts of Austin. Simmons was shocked at the difference between here and the city which he had escaped from, where you could only see the tops of buildings, the lower levels completely submerged by snow.

The two quickly became tired from the strenuous activity. Where Grif chose to preserve his energy, by not talking, Simmons found the silence between them awkward and unnerving, especially as they were so out of breath and the sounds of there heavy breathing were all that could be heard in the silence of the openness. Simmons struggled to find something to say, he was always an awkward child, never really had any friends. He wanted to say something, though, as the silence between them was killing him. 

“So Grif, where did you grow up?” Simmons eventually asked.  
“Hawaii,” Grif answered monotonously.  
“Right. That’s…interesting,” Grif did not make any attempt to reply.  
“How long have you lived in the Austin area?” Simmons attempted again.  
“Any siblings?” Simmons was really struggling to maintain a conversation but felt that it would be too weak for him to just give up. Grif suddenly stopped walking, and glared at Simmons, something more than rage in his eyes. Grief?  
“We don’t know each other well enough to talk about that, Simmons,” Grif said in a harsh tone.  
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-“  
“And shut up will you, kiss ass. I’m trying to preserve my energy here,” Grif interrupted.  
“Well maybe if you weren’t such a fat ass, you wouldn’t be struggling,” Simmons rebuked. He heard Grif chuckle and was glad that he hadn’t stepped too far. Simmons guessed that the sibling had died, probably due to the snow. it was best not to press on. Simmons took on Grif’s advice and remained silent.

A long time seemed to pass before they heard the barks of Kai. They quickened their pace to find Kai digging furiously digging at the snow, her body almost half submerged by the hole she had already made. Grif and Simmons attempted to help her, but were not half as efficient as she was. Eventually they found the top of a red truck. It had been clearly abandoned for a long time, though Kai was usually right. Cars rarely worked in the cold, as Simmons had found out, and so people leave them, unfortunately, people cannot carry that much, and are forced to only take what they can carry with them. 

When they dug down far enough, Grif smashed one of the windows, by kicking it in. He pushed Kai away from the broken glass.  
"Do you think you can get in there, and get the stuff?” Grif asked Simmons. Simmons nodded, before sliding into the open window. “Don’t cut yourself on the glass,” Grif advised as Simmons leant into the back of the truck. He saw several tin cans, which were very heavy, the things that people would leave behind, but it was food. He passed all the cans back to Grif, who was praising Kai for her good work. When Simmons contorted  out of the car window, Grif praised him also, and Simmons felt a sense of pride rush through him. He shared the load of the twenty or so cans that they found and started the long journey back to the bunker.

Grif, fortunately, seemed to be more talkative, maybe because of the success of the outing, or because they simply retraced their steps through the trenches they had already made.   
“Do you miss Hawaii?” Simmons asked.  
“It was a whole lot warmer than this, but I moved for a reason. I’ve had far happier memories here,” Grif explained. Simmons understood entirely, he too had found sanctuary in a place outside the home. None of that seemed to matter now, in a snow-induced apocalypse. 

_“Grif, please. Please! I need you!”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys enjoyed this!!


	6. Questions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tucker gets a case of impatience and "cabin fever" and so goes out, he comes back with a bit of fun.

“Dude…Dude…….Duuuuuuuuuuuuuuuude…DUDE,”  
“Tucker, I swear to god, I am going to lock you outside this fucking bunker, and pray that you freeze to death so that I won’t have to hear your annoying voice ever again,” Grif snapped, startling Kai who was beginning to doze off, she seemed to sigh in indignation, before resting her head on her paws, in attempt to drift back to sleep.   
“It’s this fucking bunker that’s the problem. I’ve been in here for over a week. I’m going crazy. I think I’m getting cabin fever,” Tucker rambled on, Kai growled softy, and walked out of the main living area, where everyone was sat, and went towards Grif and Simmons’ room.  
“I did say you should go out,” Grif said, patting Kai as she walked past him. Tucker groaned, and melodramatically flopped against the couch.  
“You could go out and fill the water tank,” Simmons suggested, who was sat on the floor, surrounded by sheets of paper on which he had documented their supplies.  
“Can I take Kai?” Tucker asked.   
“I don’t think she’ll thank you for it, but you can try,” Grif said.

Tucker got up, straightening his clothes and walked towards his room. Grif watched Simmons, who had returned to his documentation. Just watching him made Grif feel fatigued. Simmons had immense concentration, over something which Grif felt could be seen through logic. This was Simmons who valued that he was “methodical”, and “logical”, and Grif couldn’t see why he would waste time and effort on something useless, but Simmons was Simmons. He watched how Simmons would occasionally furrow his brow, speaking quietly through the problem he encountered, and nodding his head once he had thought of a solution. Grif hadn’t realised he had been staring at Simmons for at least five minutes, until he heard the footsteps of Kai and Tucker, which snapped him out of his haze. He watched Tucker leave (and noticed that he had a very perky butt), and the bunker was plunged into silence.

“Why are you even doing this?”, Grif asked.  
“So that we don’t suddenly run out of food,” Simmons explained.  
“I think we can see that,” Grif said.  
“Just let me do this,” Simmons said, he took comfort in the organisation, he felt at ease.  
“Why were you just in a car in the middle of butt fuck nowhere” Grif suddenly asked.   
“When was the last time you were in the city of Austin?” Simmons asked. Grif shook his head.  
“Not since the first few days the world had turned into an ice cube,”  
“It has turned savage. There’s a sort of civil war, two groups calling themselves the ‘Federal Army’ and the ‘New Republic’. Basically, the old state workers, police and congressman, you know, and all their supporters, and the commoners. It’s a bloodbath there, with everyone who isn’t on either side getting caught in it. I managed to steal a car from the ‘New Republic’, and I left as soon as I could. I didn’t get very far, though.” Simmons trailed off. 

Grif was shocked to hear this. He was so isolated out here, he had no idea what anyone else in the world was doing.   
“I didn’t know you could be that brave,” Grif said. Simmons blushed a shade of bright red.  
“I-I waited three months before I got enough courage to do it,” Simmons said quite quietly.  
“Why are you such a let down?” Grif sighed. Grif got up and got himself a snack, specifically, a pre-made sandwich, which Simmons had not thrown away, and returned to his seat.  
“If anyone’s the let down here, it’s you,” Simmons said pointing to the sandwich.  
“I have to eat Simmons,” he said through a mouthful of food.  
“All the time?” Simmons teased. In response, Grif flipped him off.

Suddenly, Tucker walked back in, a very happy look on his face. He brandished something in his hand.  
“You will never guess what Kai found,” he declared, excitement in his voice.   
“My soul?” Grif joked.  
“In a way, yes,” Tucker said and unwrapped a, very well chilled, bottle of vodka. Grif swallowed hard, dark flashbacks coming into his mind. That was a long time ago, though.  
“Do you think you’d be ok if we played a drinking game?” Tucker asked Grif, who nodded with an air of false confidence.  
"Did you even fill the water tank?" Simmons asked.  
"Lighten up," the other two told him at the same time.  
“What sort of drinking games?” Simmons asked.   
“How about truth or dare?” Tucker suggested the other two gave positive responses and Tucker quickly removed his outdoor clothing, joining them with the look of a giddy schoolboy.

It was a silly game, it started of with light questions, such as Grif asking Tucker if he had eaten the last of the Oreos, which he did, and Tucker daring Simmons to lick Kai’s bed. Then, when they had got more drunk, the questions became more sexual in nature.   
“How many people have you slept with at one time?” Grif asked Tucker.  
“I think 5 is my top,” Tucker said.  
“Are you still a virgin?” Grif asked Simmons, who turned bright red, and took a shot.  
“You are!” Tucker yelled.  
“I didn’t say that,” Simmons defended.  
“You didn’t have to,” Tucker said laughing. Then he questions got emotional, the dares no longer being asked as they got too lazy, Tucker even leaning on Kai:   
“Did you cheat on that blond guy?” Tucker asked Grif, you replied that he did and that he regrets it.   
“Why do you have a tattoo of the name of your dog?” Simmons asked Grif.

Suddenly the room went silent, and the smiles faded from faces. Grif subconsciously rubbed where that tattoo was, on his left shoulder. He quickly took a shot and went to his room in silence.   
“What did I do wrong?” Simmons asked.  
“Touchy subject,” Tucker explained,”It’s best not to bother him.” Simmons felt guilt wash over him, and looked in the direction of Grif’s room.  “Dude, have you been checking Grif out while he’s naked?” Tucker teased. Simmons sent him a cold look, and Tucker look ashamed, and went to his room himself, leaving Simmons alone, with Kai, who looked at him with an innocently curious look.

Simmons did not feel it was right to go to Grif right now, so he decided to sleep on the couch. he quickly passed out as he was drunk, though he woke up an hour later feeling nauseous. He got up, his head pounding and went to throw up in the toilet, though it seemed that someone had beaten him to it. He got some water, to quell the burning in his throat. Through the silence of the bunker, he could hear what sounded like crying. As he got closer he could tell it came from Grif’s room. Another wave of guilt washed over him. Simmons rushed back to the kitchen, getting another glass of water and a packet of stale tortilla chips. 

Tentatively opening the door to Grif’s room, Simmons heard Grif quickly stifle his tears and go silent, pretending to be asleep. Simmons quickly placed the water and chips by Grif’s bed, and left the room, returning to the uncomfortable couch.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lot of foreshadowing in this chapter guys, setting up for big things.


	7. Hangover

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Simmons wants to apologise for what he said but ends up digging himself into a deeper hole. Grif reveals things to Simmons about his past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm currently in exams so there won't be regular updates for about a month. I will still update, but not on a weekly basis as I usually do. Pity me in these hard times.

Grif slowly, and sluggishly came into consciousnessHis eyes seemed to be glued together and his head was pounding. He recognised the sensation as a hangover and was transported to years before the ice and snow, when the voice of his sister, and of Tucker filled his days, and whoever he happened to fall into bed with filled the sound of the night.

When Grif eventually opened his eyes he was grounded again to the bunker, though his hangover was still very persistent, and so were the memories of last night. Although he knew he could now handle the alcohol, doesn't mean he wasn't affected by it. He rolled to his side, sighing deeply at the strain. He scratched Kai's necks, who was just waking up herself. By his side, he was surprised to find some water and an already open packet of tortilla chips. He saw the food, and his stomach lurched violently. Food would have to wait for later.

While he sipped the glass of water, he vaguely remembered someone coming into his room, but he was blacked out at that time and had somehow managed to smuggle more alcohol into his room which did not help his drunken stupor. Grif heard the sounds of movement outside his room and decided to join the others. First so that he apologise to the other two, second so that he could find out which one of them gave him the water and thank them for it.

He walked into the main room, Kai trotting behind him, and was met with slightly concerned looks from Tucker and Simmons.  
"Who gave me the water?" Grif asked.  
"I did" Simmons replied nervously. Grif felt genuinely grateful, even if it was Simmons himself who had asked Grif something which he'd rather not talk about. As though Simmons had read his mind, he said: "I wanted to say sorry for yesterday, I think I went too far."  
"Thank you," Grif replied.  
"How are you feeling?" Tucker asked.  
"I have a killer hangover," Grif admitted.  
"Well, you know what Dr Flowers always said, 'when you suffer you learn from your mistakes,'"Tucker quoted.  
"Flowers was batshit," Grif said and slumped onto the sofa between Tucker and Simmons.

"Grif and Simmons," Tucker suddenly announced, the addressed looking in his direction. "I'm sensing a little bit of tension between you two. Clearly you need to talk about some things, and frankly, I could use some alone time"  
"Alright, mother," Simmons said.  
"Do you want to disobey me?" Tucker asked in an authorial voice.  
"No!" Simmons squeaked.  
"Do you want some fries with that ass lick?" Grif commented before getting up and heading to his room to get ready, Simmons following shortly after.

It hasn't snowed for a while, so the ground is hard beneath them, and they don't have to wade through snow to walk, but the ground was also icy, and extremely slippery. Even Kai appeared to be having trouble walking. Simmons fell five times before Grif sighed and offered his arm for support.

"Who is Dr Flowers?" Simmons asked.  
"He was our therapist," Grif sighed, "Tucker and I were in rehab together, and we basically bonded over the fact that our therapist was just extremely friendly,"  
"Rehab?" Simmons asked without thinking "Sorry. You don't have to explain,"  
"It's fine. It's over now anyway. I had severe alcoholism, I would be intoxicated for almost weeks at a time. One time, when I was drunk, I went out in my car, don't even remember where I was going, but I drove straight into this guy's hundred-year-old tree. I got hurt pretty bad. Woke up in the hospital with a couple of broken bones. They sent me straight to rehab, once I healed up. The first few weeks I went through really bad withdrawal, I was put into solitary. When I eventually sobered up, I still wasn't allowed to leave."

"That sounds awful," Simmons said.  
"It was for the best, though, I had my sister depending on me. The only bad thing about it though was that I was bored as fuck. Continuously seeing Flowers, having simple conversations. Then, one time, when I was leaving Flowers' office I met Tucker for the first time. He was blatantly flirting with a nurse. When I saw him later, he was still at it. I decided to tease him about it. We quickly became friends, mostly because we had no one else to talk to."

"What was Tucker there for?" Simmons asked.  
"He was a drug addict. When we got out we both went to the same support group so we stayed friends. He always wanted to slip back into his habits, but I still had my sister to look out for. He met her once, and soon after they began dating. I didn't really trust him with her, so that also made me get closer to him to look out for my sister."

Simmons guessed that because Grif had never mentioned his sister before, and the fact that she wasn't still with him, meant that she had probably died. This was not uncommon, in this world of ice and snow, it was a fact of life.   
"What's your sister's name?" Simmons asked tentatively.  
"Kai," Grif said stiffly. Memories of the previous night flooded Simmons' mind. It seemed to Simmons that he could not bring up sensitive things around Grif, as though he were magnetised to the dark aspects of Grif's life. Or that Grif's life was just that dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to write happy, I really do...


	8. Emotions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tucker confronts Grif about his feelings on Simmons. New people are welcomed to this universe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know with a title like this that this chapter is going to be fun. Still doing exams, they're going alright.

Tucker sat eating breakfast, which consisted of a tin of baked beans that was rusting on the outside, and nothing else. In a way, it reminded Tucker of his teenage years, only in his teenage years Tucker was not confined to a concrete bunker with the world submerged in snow. He was also beginning his descent into getting high every day, only then it was just the occasional spliff. Tucker thought back to these times with a sense of fondness, and nostalgia, though it was impossible that it would happen again.

Tucker's thoughts were broken by Simmons calling his name in a tone of childish excitement. He came walking into the kitchen brandishing a piece of pink cloth.   
"Tucker look at this!" Simmons said.  
"Simmons!" Grif called angrily, coming into the room, still putting on his pants.   
"Did you know hat Grif had a My Little Pony phase?" Simmons asked, unfurling the t-shirt which had a pink pony and in glittery letters the words 'Pinky Pie' underneath. Tucker took a moment trying to maintain composure but quickly broke down in fits fo laughter.

"Simmons," Grif warned reaching to grab the t-shirt, but just before he could, Simmons, who was a few inches taller than Grif held it high above his head, still laughing himself, and fueling Tucker's laughter. Grif took several steps towards Simmons, who backed away equally until his thighs hit a counter. Feeling as though he had the upper hand, Grif leant forward over Simmons, though he could not reach it still, as Simmons contorted backwards. Grif, in spite, leant full-flush onto Simmons, leaning all his weight onto him. Their faces were inches apart, and Simmons looked into Grif's face, at that moment Grif happened to look back, and they shared a moment of eye contact which alerted Simmons to just how close they were. His face flushed red and his concentration faltered, causing him to drop his hand far enough for Grif to snatch back the shirt. Grif stepped away with a smirk on his face.

Tucker noticed the tension between the two of them, though his laughter did not cease, as Grif seemed to hug the t-shirt closer to him, protectively. Simmons, on the other hand, looked like a love struck teen. Tucker had seen that the two had become closer, acting like a married couple, and the sexual tension was wrought between them. Tucker was a nosey soul and wanted to know more, particularly from Grif, who he still regarded as a best friend, especially after all they've been through.

"Grif, do you want to go out today?" Tucker asked.  
"With you?" Grif asked.  
"You sound like it's a bad thing. I'll let you wear your Pony shirt," Tucker teased, offering Grif the rest of his food.   
"Fine," Grif said, wolfing down the food in a few bites, and getting a few more top ups, before heading out with Tucker, Kai coming along too.

"Grif," Tucker had to shout over the fast winds.   
"What?" Grif replied, shouting.  
"How do you feel about Simmons?" Tucker asked.  
"Simmons? He's fine, a bit of a kiss ass, but fine," Grif replied with slight confusion.  
"I mean are you and him fucking," Tucker said bluntly. Grif replied with a look of disgust, "Bow chica bow wow?" Tucker said tentatively, Grif rolled his eyes.  
"I can't afford to be in love with anyone again," Grif said, stroking Kai's head. Tucker understood, though he really was quite disappointed.  
"Is that what you wanted, because we aren't going to find anything in this wind, and I'd rather go back," Grif complained. Tucker agreed, and they made their way back together.

When they reentered the bunker, Grif and Tucker were greeted by a clean space. All the random articles of clothing that carpeted the floor, mounds of Kai's shed fur, stale food, empty glasses, unclean plates, all were gone and replaced by their clean alternatives.   
"Simmons?" Grif called. The addressed appeared when called looking satisfied.   
"What?" he asked.  
"What did you do with everything?" Tucker asked.  
"Everything? You mean all the mess?"   
"Yes, all the mess. Where's all my stuff?" Grif attacked.  
"I cleaned it all," Simmons said with pride.  
"When?" Tucker asked.  
"When you were gone," Simmons explained.  
"We were only gone for fifteen minutes," Tucker said in amazement. Simmons only shrugged and continued with his task, leaving the other two gawking in amazement.   
"They say opposites attract," Tucker said to Grif, who rolled his eyes in response.

* * *

 

Wash was walking with Maine in the barren cold expanse. They decided to run away from the terrors of Austin, many of their friends having been killed in the battles. They weren't even part of either faction, they were freelancers, but both sides were getting crueller and outsiders were getting caught in the crossfire. They were the only two known remaining members of a subfraction. They had been walking for several days, but they had felt the freedom the instant they left the city.

Wash was revelling in the way he could just live in peace with Maine, the silent stoic providing comforting company. He refused to think that this can only last for a short time. But this was an apocalypse and nothing can stay the same for a long period of time.

Maine alerted Wash to two shapes in the distance, which looked like two people, searching for something. Washington's cautiousness took over him and he drops to the floor to take cover. Maine was bolder and walked towards them boldly. Wash called to him, willing him to come back and hide, but Maine continued, hand reaching for his rifle. The two figures seemed to spot Maine and headed towards him. Wash cursed out loud and reluctantly ran to catch up to his partner.

Maine and the two strangers reached each other before he could reach them. The taller of the two strangers, dressed in black and green, made a move to attack Maine. Although Maine's reflexes were fast, and he pulled out his gun, the strangers' were faster and knocked the rifle out of his hand, sending it flying. Before Wash could breathe, the smaller took out a knife and sunk it into Maine's torso, who slumped instantly. The smaller, dressed in grey and orange, pulled the knife out and Maine sunk to his knees before there could be another slash, Wash pulled out his own gun and started shooting them. One bullet clipped the one with green in the shoulder, as they began running away.

Was wanted to run after them, but had to tend to Maine. The wound was just below where Maine's heart was, and despite this and despite the chilling cold, blood was flowing rapidly from his chest. Wash felt his own chest clench violently. Maine was struggling for breath and his pulse was growing weak. Wash knew that there was only one realistic decision to be made here, and it killed him that he was the one who had to make it and act it out. He pulled out his own knife and made eye contact with his partner for the last time. Maine's eyes were beseeching and full of pain. Wash struck Maine a second time directly into his heart. Maine's eyes lost their pain almost instantly, and his body went limp. He looked peaceful.

Looked at the direction of where the murderers had run to. He vowed that he would take vengeance for the people who had taken from him the only person he still cared for in this world. Taking Maine's weapons, and his dog tags, Wash swept one last look at Maine and made for the same direction as the madmen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope the strangers weren't too ambiguous, but ambiguous enough... if that makes any sense.


	9. Attack

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grif and Simmons go out further than they ever had before and encounter trouble.

Simmons hated that he was lanky. He felt that his legs sunk into the fresh snow with such ease that it must be because he had a small surface area, his legs descended a foot each time into the fresh snow. His trousers were beginning to get wet, seeping through to his legs. Grif also was experiencing trouble with the fresh snow as he was shorter and had shorter legs, and when he to a step he became submerged to almost his knee. Both were becoming exhausted due to the effort. They were growing fatigued from the strain, and due to the fact that they had never walked this far, but they were running low on supplies again. They couldn't return without something.

Then again, they had been out for over two hours, without a break. Upon realising this, Grif stopped in his track and sat down, propping himself on the edge of the trench he had made with his feet, sighing loudly as he did. Simmons heard this groan and turned to find Grif breathing heavily, praising Kai who decided to take a break with them. Simmons walked a few steps so that he was closer to Grif, and sat down himself. Thankful for the break.

"How have we not found anything yet?" Simmons asked, trying to shake snow from the bottom of his boot.  
"We've been in the same place for over a year, we've exhausted all the resources. We are going on supply runs way more often than we ever used to. We might have to move soon, where to I don't know," Grif said.  
"How did you even find the bunker in the first place, it's pretty great and oddly fitting," Simmons asked.  
"Kai had heard about it from one her friends well before the first big snow came," Grif said, subconsciously rubbing Kai's head as he spoke. "After it had been snowing for three months on end, and we had lost all electricity and signal, we decided to head out to the bunker to see if we could find it and to find a warm shelter. Tucker happened to be staying the night when we first got snowed in, so he came along with us. It took us about a month to find it, but when we did, we thought we were finally safe," Grif trailed off and looked solum in thought. He suddenly snapped out of it, making Simmons jump slightly and continued: "We should start moving again," Simmons nodded and got up, and the two walked onwards.

"You know what, you know all about my past, but I don't really know anything about you," Grif prompted.  
"It's not particularly a happy story," Simmons said.  
"And mine is?" Simmons let out a sigh but spoke despite the unease he felt.  
"My dad was abusive. When I was young, my mother tried to defend us, but as the years went on she got weak, and tired of always fighting back so I guess she just gave up. It got really bad. She died when I was almost eighteen. When I did reach that age, I left my father's house finally. I don't know what happened to him. I was homeless for quite a while, but eventually, I found a job in this run-down cafe. Managed to save enough money to find a bad apartment on the outskirts of Austin. I was finally on my own, though, making my own way. It was good. Few years later I even managed to buy a better apartment closer to the centre, and I got my GED. Then the snow came, and then the wars came," Simmons said deliberately missing out the more gory details.  
"Shit man, I'm sorry," Grif said. Simmons did not reply, there wasn't much he could say in response. On the bright side, he managed to talk for quite a while, and they had travelled far in the time.

So far that they saw two figures of strangers in the distance. One seemed to be wearing orange, the other green. Grif felt a sense of unease, and an odd familiarity, which only grew stronger as they were getting closer. They were about fifty feet from each other when the one in green and black pointed a gun straight them. The two were unable to react fast enough until a bullet came hurtling towards them, shattering the silence, and barely missing Simmons. Kai yelped in surprise at the sudden explosion. Grif and Simmons started running away, but they heard a sudden yell, which sounded as though someone had gotten injured, and when they turned around to find the source of the noise, they saw a third figure which they had not seen before, wearing grey and yellow, lying in the snow, clutching his side. The figure though injured, pulled out a gun and shot both at the strangers, and both dropped suddenly, hitting them clearly.

The yellow stranger grew limp and collapsed, submerged into the pillowy snow. Grif and Simmon's stood unsure as to what to do. Their queries were answered when Kai went and sat next to the passed out yellow figure, pawing at him. Grif followed his dog and leant down to feel the pulse of the fallen man.  
"He's still alive," Grif said in amazement.  
"So what are we supposed to do," Simmons asked.  
"We can't just leave him; he saved our lives," Grif said.  
"Fine, I guess we're taking him with us," Simmons said, and he helped Grif pick him up. They left their attacker behind in the snow, sure that they were dead.

They walked back towards the bunker, the journey back being even more strenuous because of the extra weight they were carrying with them. The weight between them began to move as he came back into consciousness.  
"Where are you guys taking me?" The stranger asked groggily.  
"Back to our bunker, you're injured pretty bad, dude," Grif said, indicating to the Knife lodged into his torso.  
"They aren't dead," the man said, before passing out again. Grif's stomach churned at the thought.

"Who were those guys?" Simmons asked.  
"You don't want to know," Grif said pursuing through the snow.  
"Wait, do you know who they are?" Simmons asked.  
"I said drop it, Simmons," Grif said, readjusting his grip on the an's weight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Action and emotion, what a great combination huh? The plot gets heavy from here so enjoy :)


	10. Care

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grif and Simmons return, and Wash is taken care of by a medic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So exams are finally done! I think they went well, but now I'm back to my usual upload schedual! This is a slightly longer chapter than usual. Happy Pride month everyone <3

Tucker wandered around the bunker aimlessly. He had taken a nap for an hour, but now he was restless. He did not understand how Grif was so passive. He found himself in Grif and Simmons' shared room ou of pure boredom. He rarely encroached on the others' space, but he felt too confined in his room. He began to look at the room, whilst eating a sandwich made with stale bread, as though he were documenting an important site. God, he was bored. But it was something to do, the others had been out for a long time.

He looked first at Simmons' side of the room, mostly because it was less of an eye sore. Simmons had few possessions, most of which seemed to be Grif's. He had his clothes neatly folded in a pile, and organised into categories. His bed was a mattress which Tucker and Grif had found once on a supply run. He remembered Simmons' joyful face when they brought it out of storage for him. Despite only being a mattress, it was surprisingly neat, the sheets wrapped around it tightly. On the other side of the room was Grif's bed. It was an unmade mess, several clothes and crumbs littered the top. Tucker knew from experience that Grif would burrow into the mess, and curl up to sleep. Whatever worked for him. One particular box of Grif's caught Tucker's attention. Then he realised why he was suddenly magnetised to this room.

From within the box, pictures were spilling out. Tucker walked over to the box and flicked through the photos until he found the particular one he wanted. He flicked through many photos, some had a young Grif, looking happy, with an equally young Kai in Hawaii. Some was an older version of the siblings in Austin Texas. Tucker felt his heart swell at the life he used to know. Then he was in a few photos himself, usually high and flipping off the camera. Then he found the one photo he was looking for. It was him laying on the Grifs' couch. He was sat between the siblings, legs on Grif, and his arms wrapped around Kai, and he was kissing her hard on the cheek. Kai's face was in mid-laugh, whereas Grif was scowling at the two of them. He vaguely remembered that a friend of Kai's had taken the photo, but that didn't really matter.

He was overcome with nostalgia, which brought him a mixture of joy and pain. This was a life with Kai and without snow. With drugs and without death. He stashed the photo in his pocket and brought it to his room. He put it on his bedside table, looking at it with a sense of longing.

Suddenly, his musings were interrupted by the sound of the air tight door of the bunker open, and he snapped out of his nostalgic thoughts to greet the others. His calm thoughts of remembrance were quickly replaced by innate anger at the sight of his friends, who had a third person with them.  
"Dexter Grif!" Tucker shouted.  
"Lavernius Tucker" Grif replied in the same tone.  
"Are you able to leave this bunker without returning with someone else, and actual supplies?" Tucker asked, watching the two struggle with the weight of the body, trying to get him on the couch.  
"He's injured," Grif argued.  
"So was the other one," Tucker rebuked.  
"I. Am. Right. Here," Simmons interjected.  
"He saved our lives, Tucker," Grif said. Tucker finally relented, and moved to help carry the body.

From what he could see of the man, he was extremely pale, probably due to blood loss. Short tufts of dirty blond hair peeked out from under his hood. Every place Tucker looked, the man seemed pale and lifeless, his lips had lost colour, and his hand looked life they belonged to a corpse. The only colour on the man was the yellow on his clothes, that had begun to blend with the blood that was seeping through. When they had managed to get him on the couch, Grif took several deep breaths before he spoke:  
"I'm going to get Doc, I don't think we can do anything," Tucker just nodded, and promised to look after the man while they waited for his return. Grif left quickly, leaving Simmons and Tucker alone with the man.

Tucker began to take the outer layers off of the man so that he could be easily attended to. He could feel, even under the layers of thermals, that the man was well built, and muscled.  
"Who's Doc?" Simmons asked, beginning to help Tucker.  
"He's our local medic," Tucker explained. When he took off the man's coat completely, he saw a pool of blood on the man's body, a deep knife wound at the centre. Tucker grimaced, at the sight but continued taking the outer layers off.  
"What happened?" Tucker asked.  
"We were just walking, and then we saw these two people who started attacking us. Then this guy," pointing to the man bleeding out on their couch, "came and saved us, but he got hurt. We decided that we couldn't just leave him."  
"What happened to the two who attacked you?" Tucker asked.  
"He knocked them down, but he seemed certain that they weren't dead."  
"Do you know his name?" Simmons just shook his head in response.

Tucker watched the nameless man in anticipation for what seemed like forever, monitoring his shallow breaths, pushing down on the wound to hinder the blood flow, Simmons pacing behind him. Grif finally returned, breathing heavily. Behind him followed Doc, who was quickly shedding off his purple snow wear, and half ran over to the bleeding man. The room was enveloped wth silence, everyone watching Doc's movements closely. The man's torso was stripped bare. Tucker was called by Doc to put pressure on his wounds with his already bloodstained hands, and he could feel the pulsing of the blood underneath the man's bare skin. Tucker was also correct in assuming that the man was muscular.

It took almost an hour before the wound was properly cleaned and dressed. The man was still passed out, but Doc reassured them that he would live as long as the others attended to him and redressed the wound.

"Thanks, Doc," Tucker said to him whilst the medic was washing his hands of blood.  
"Anytime, Tucker," the medic said. Grif came up at that moment from the storeroom, brandishing some dried meat. He handed it to Doc, who accepted it as worthy payment for his services.  
"How's Donut?" Grif asked.  
"He's fine. He was out on a supply run when you came. The scars are healing well," Doc said.  
"That was a bad explosion," Grif said remembering only a few months ago when he saw the deep burns on Donut's face.  
"The worst part is we don't even know what it's from still. It seemed like...a grenade." Doc said shaking his head. "This was meant to be a peaceful area, but now... Anyway, I should really head back now. Donut will be wondering where I am. If you need me again, just come and get me from the house. Or you could just come around whenever. Donut and I have been trying our hand at gardening," Doc said in a cheery tone.  
"Uh sure, Doc," Tucker said, leading the medic to the door.

"Grif?" Simmons said when Doc had left the bunker. He had remained mostly silent during the medic's visit as he didn't know him and automatically felt anxious. "Earlier, it seemed like you knew those guys who attacked us."  
"I think I do. I think they were the ones who killed Kai."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay, new characters! I don't think they will be making a return, I haven't planned it, but anything can change. So I've been getting a lot less comments recently. Even if you don't like the chapters I want to know, it's really helpful :) Also, I finish school in a month, and I want to do a summer of fanfic writing! Please send me prompts, either Red vs Blue or anywhere from Rooster Teeth! x


	11. Awake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wash wakes up dazed, and makes plans with the others.

Wash groaned into unconsciousness. It took a while for his eyes to focus on his surroundings, but even then all he saw was grey concrete walls. He slowly turned his head to get a better perspective of his environment, though the process was painful. He felt the cool air on his exposed skin, though this area was only his shoulders as someone had put a blanket on top of him. The memories of the events leading up til this moment started coming into Wash's mind though he wasn't sure where he was exactly. As he absorbed more of his surroundings, he noticed that there was a man, asleep in a chair across the room from him, and presumed that he was the one who had given him the blanket, and put the bandages which were tight around his body and scratching against his skin. It was a sensation he was all to used to. His scars were turning into tattoos almost, a meaningful art piece scattered over his body.

The man in the chair seemed in a deep sleep, and as much as Wash was grateful for his life being saved, and therefore didn't want to wake him, but he felt incredibly thirsty, and a little light headed.He tried to call out to the man, but all that came out was a guttural moan. His mind instantly thought of Maine, and he felt a pang in his chest, that was made worse by the strain to his injury. Luckily the man in the chair was a light sleeper and woke up to the sound.

"Woah, dude, you're awake. You've been out for a while," the man said. Was groaned out a word that sounded vaguely like water. "Water?" the man asked ad Wash nodded enthusiastically. "Got it," and he hurried out of the room.

When he came back, his head was gently lifted up by the other's warm hands. He greedily took the water, though he paced himself, not to throw up.   
"Thank you," Wash said, his voice slightly clearer.  
"No problem, man. I'm Tucker by the way,"   
"Washington,"  
"Like the state?" Wash just nodded. "How are you doing?"  
"Been better. Been worse."   
"Fair enough. Do you remember what happened?" Tucker asked.  
"I remember tracking down those two murderers, then saving the other two from them, then getting hurt. Not much else," Was explained.  
"Right well, those other two, Grif and Simmons, they brought you back here, to our bunker," Tucker explained, his tone came out more hostile than he had intended.  
"You don't sound pleased about your friends' decisions," Fuck, he noticed.   
"Nothing personal, we were already low on supplies, and now we have another mouth to feed, and we had to pay our medic to wrap you up."  
"I'm sorry to be such an inconvenience. Don't worry, I plan to leave soon," Wash said

"Where are you planning to go?" a new voice said from somewhere behind Wash. The man came into view as Tucker said: "This is Grif, he's one of the guys who saved you,"  
"I'm Washington, and thank you,"  
"Washington, like the state?"  
"Yes," Wash said, an annoying sense of deja vu coming over him. "I need to leave so I can finish what I started," Wash continued, changing the subject to a less vexing one.

"What would it be that you need to finish?" a new voice said.  
"I presume this is Simmons," Wash said, trying not to sound as exasperated as he felt, "Thanks for saving me."  
"His name is Washington," Tucker informed Simmons. 'If he says it I swear-'  
"Like the president?" Wash blinked, surprisingly shocked.   
"Uh, yeah."  
"So what's your grand plan?" Tucker asked.   
"I need to kill those two who attacked you," Wash explained.  
"I mean, we're grateful and all for you saving us, but you really don't have to-"  
"I'm not doing this for you," Wash cut into Grif's speech. "Before we crossed paths, they killed one of my really close friends. The last one surviving And they killed him. When I saw it happen, and I couldn't do anything do stop it, it happened so quickly. I managed to not get hurt, so I vowed then that I would seek vengeance. I followed them until they found you," Wash said looking at Grif and Simmons while he was saying that last note. He was slowly edging up out to a sitting position, ready to leave quickly.  
"That sounds like a great plan and all, but we lost those two ages ago. Who knows where they are now," Simmons said, he looked at Grif for confirmation, but his friend was looking contemplatively and did not notice.  
"I heard them saying that they want to go to Austin. I don't know why, but it's a lead," Wash explained, bracing himself to stand up, and the pain that will come due to the action, but had to be endured anyway.   
"I'm coming with you," Grif said. Wash sat down, relief coming over his aching body.  
"What?" all three other people in the room asked at once.

Grif sighed but did not seem any less determined. "Those two people, if you could even call them that, murdered my sister. In front of me. I watched it happen, and I couldn't do anything about it," Grif said.  
"I was there," Tucker interjected "but I'm not filled with crazy death wishes, and a desire to go on suicidal missions. We don't even know if these are the same guys,"   
"I know, Tucker. Everything that happened then happened again. They even had the same fucking colour scheme,"  
"Green and orange?" Grif nodded "Fuck,"

"I'm going too," Simmons said.  
"No," Grif argued.  
"Grif, you saved my life. I owe you, and I would do anything to help you," Simmons said, his cheeks becoming flushed, and he avoided all eye contact.   
"Are you sure?" Grif asked softly, Simmons nodded, looking directly back into Grif's eyes, hoping his compassion was conveyed.   
"Well fuck, I'm not staying here alone. I guess I'm coming too, then," Tucker added.  
"I never agreed to any of this," Wash said attempting to get up again.   
"You don't have a choice. Now lie back down. We aren't going anywhere until you are properly healed." Tucker said sternly. Wash groaned and felt like a child as he obeyed and lay down again. He was already getting irritated with these people, and now he was going to have to travel and survive with them.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Keep sending prompts guys!


	12. Preparation

After he had been fed, Wash had been forced then to go back to sleep, in spite of his arguments that he, in fact, was not tired, and did not need any more rest, and that they should leave as soon as they could. His protests fell on deaf ears, and he relented unwillingly. It seemed that his hosts were persistent hindrances to Wash's plans. However, once he lay down once again, he felt the weight of injury induced fatigue come over him and quickly fell into a deep sleep.

To Wash, the luxury of sleep was foreign, so when, after what had felt like five minutes, but later he discovered was several hours, Wash was abruptly woken up with cold, but gentle hands, he responded quickly and easily. The face he saw first was a new one, and introduced itself as 'Doc' who was a medic. next to Doc was another face, he was blonde and it was smiling encouragingly, this person introduced themselves as 'Donut'. The cold hands, belonging to Doc, stripped Wash down to expose the wound so that it could be inspected. Doc instructing Donut to pass him things and other directions which would help him. Wash's mind was still half asleep, and did not fully understand what was happening, but saw Tucker watching over the proceedings, almost protectively, so Wash's qualms were settled. Whilst his wound was being examined and redressed by the medic, Wash watched Grif and Simmons run between the rooms, carrying various items. They would often stop and argue over a particular item before one relented and slunk away in defeat.

"Washington, could you stand up for me?" Doc asked. Wash complied, but was embarrassed at the pained groan he let out, Tucker smiled encouragingly. "And could you walk to Tucker and back again," Doc instructed. Wash did so, his movements were shaky, mostly because he was weak still. When he returned to his original position, he felt slightly out of breath.  
"I don't think he's well enough yet. I can't let him leave," Doc said.  
"I don't have a choice," Wash said, and he was telling the truth.  
"You're too weak," Doc argued.  
"I agree, Washington," Donut said.  
"How soon will he be well enough?" Tucker asked. Doc sighed in thought, and the room waited in anticipation.  
"I would say, if you're desperate, tomorrow. But you need to keep doing small amounts of exercise and movement, and don't stake of the stitches until next week," Wash nodded to the instructions, the idea of a set time for continuing his mission filling him with a small amount of hope and determination.   
"Why do you need to go so desperately?" Donut asked.   
"We're killing two people," Grif said, suddenly appearing with an axe in his hand. Wash was going to be travelling with idiots.  
"Oh," was the only response Doc and Donut could give.

***

"This might be my last night in this bunker," Grif said suddenly. They were all sitting in the main room, Tucker, Wash, and Simmons. The truth of this realisation hit Simmons and Tucker with a sense of nostalgia. Wash, who had only spent a few hours conscious in the bunker, did not share the feeling, but felt sympathetic anyway, particularly for Tucker, who's breathing hitched. "I'm going to take a shower," Grif added, "who knows when I will be able to take one next,"

"Grif showering? Now I've seen everything," Simmons said, remembering the days when he could smell Grif from one hundred meters, and he had to drag him into the bathroom and lock him there until he was clean.  
"Thankfully, Kai had more sense of hygiene," Tucker said. At the sound of her name, the dog namesake of the Grif sister barked softly from another room.  
"Kai, the dog," Wash began, "Is named after Kai Grif, the sister?"   
"When Kaikaina died, we both saw it happen. We were ready to give up. Then this dog comes towards us, and we sort of took it as a sign. Like it was Kai or something. Sounds stupid now," Tucker trailed off.   
"People cope with grief in different ways. I for one, prefer murderous revenge," Wash joked, though he was being serious. Tucker laughed appreciatively.

After Grif had showered, he went to his own room. He might have had the energy to shower, but he decided that he could get dressed later. The bunker wasn't that cold at the moment, so he walked around his room with a towel wrapped around his waist. He wanted to lay on his bed, but there were several of his items covering it, and he could picture Simmon's smug face if he saw that Grif had been forced to tidy his own mess. Not worth it.

He did see, among the mess, that the box of photos had been moved, he presumed by Tucker, probably taking a photo f Kai for himself. Grif wasn't mad, he understood the need to hold onto the past perfectly. As much as looking to the future and moving on sounded like the best thing to do, he didn't want to forget Kai. However, Tucker did have the right idea, taking a photo with him. Grif flicked through the photos, sitting on a small clear patch on the bed, looking for the photo he wanted with him. He finally, settled on one with him and Kai at a bar in downtown Austin making exaggerated poses at the camera, hints of laughter in their expressions.

Grif suddenly became aware that Simmons was in the room with him. There was a little blush to his cheeks, and Grif realised he was still mostly naked.   
"Like what you see?" Grif asked.  
"You spend too much time with Tucker," Simmons said.  
"I think when Tucker actually flirts he's a little more subtle. Just watch him with Wash,"  
"Wash?" Simmons asked. Grif nodded in a knowing way.  
"I give it three weeks," Grif said.  
"I don't know, Wash seems...tough," Simmons said.  
"You underestimate Tucker," Grif said.

Simmons' thought about he was incompetent at flirting, or even addressing his feelings. "Like what you see?" Yes. But Simmons would never openly admit it. It was clear Grif did not feel the same way anyway. Whenever Tucker teased them about their close friendship, Grif would dismiss it violently. These thought haunted Simmons until he fell asleep for the last time in this bunker, trying to avert his eyes from Grif, so that he wouldn't know what he was thinking about.

 


	13. Pack

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay with this chapter, I am currently on holiday, and have limited access to internet, but it's here now and slightly longer than normal. Hope you enjoy it!

Grif would have felt immense pain in his legs and feet, if the snow hadn’t made his legs frozen, to the point where he could probably have his left leg cut into, and he wouldn’t notice it. They had been walking now for several hours, and it seemed that they were no closer to the woods visible in the far distance than they were half an hour ago. Could it be possible that they were not actually moving forward at all, only hallucinating this whole experience? Grif slowed down his steps to almost a halt to see if the others would move past him. At first, it seemed like his theory was correct, the others barely moved past him, but after a few moments the gap between them grew, and Grif groaned as he had to run in order to catch up. Alright maybe he wasn’t correct about the “not moving” theory, but it didn’t help the fact their journey had already begun and was already driving him insane.

There were two things which were driving him forward, though, the thought of finally getting vengeance on his sister and the fact that the others would call him lazy if he asked for yet another break. In his defence Tucker and Simmons seemed to be struggling too now, though, only Washington and Kai seemed to maintain their vigour. He knew that Tucker and Simmons would appreciate a break as much as he would, but neither of them would ask, Tucker because he wanted to look impressive to Washington, who couldn’t care less anyway, and Simmons who didn’t want to risk embarrassing himself infant of Washington, who again wouldn’t care. Washington was as driven to seeking revenge as Grif was, if not more so because the weight of the tragedy was still fresh in his mind, Grif had been slightly calmed over time.

This was clear in the events of the morning. Wash was up and ready first, he seemed to have gotten restless waiting for the others to do the same, and so he woke them all up, much to the annoyance of Grif. Though surprisingly, it was not him who was the last to get ready, it was Simmons who insisted on bringing everything “just in case of emergencies” and then triple checking to see if they had everything. It was Grif eventually who managed to persuade Simmons that they were, in fact, well prepared and that they could leave the bunker, for what all thought could be their last time.

Grif was not stupid, or unobservant. He knew how Simmons felt about him. He saw it when Simmons blushed deeply when he had to apply heating cream to the place in Grif’s back where Grif himself couldn’t reach it, or when Simmons would always laugh at his jokes, even if they weren’t particularly funny. Small hints here and there made it very obvious to Grif. It wasn’t that Grif was repulsed or could not feel the same way. He liked how Simmons’ hair looked like copper or burning embers in a fire in a certain light, or the way his entire body seemed to be littered with freckles of various sizes, or how Simmons was Grif’s opposite in every sense, each of their faults was balanced out by the other. Perhaps, upon reflection, Grif did feel the same way, but that did not matter much, he would not allow himself to act upon it. He had already lost someone he loved, he could not go through it again.

When these musings, which often filtered through Grif’s mind came to the end that they usually came to, he noticed that they had grown closer to the forest, the trees seemed bigger, and he could identify them better. They were still far away, however, and Grif couldn’t be left alone to his own thoughts anymore, they were dark thoughts, and thinking was tiring. Grif thought that perhaps the others could offer salvation and entertainment.

“I’m bored,” Grif announced.  
“How are you bored, you’re doing something aren’t you?” Washington answered, frustration in his tone. Grif had probably interrupted some planning or something serious, not that he felt guilty for it.  
“Yes, but with my body. Boredom is in the mind,” Grif said, relishing the way he knew he was winding up Washington, particularly shown in the way his next words were said with malice.  
“Well entertain yourself then.” Grif groaned, that brief distraction was not enough to settle his mind; until a plan came to his mind, and he could not help but smile to himself.

“Tucker. Fuck, marry, kill: Scarlett Johansen, Brad Pitt, Angelina Jolie?” Grif said, and he could hear the smile in Tucker’s voice.  
“Not very original, Grif,”  
“Give me a break, it’s been a while,” Grif said in defence.  
“Well I’d have to kill either Brad Pitt or Angelina Jolie, seeing as they’re married, and getting between them might make one of them jealous, and that could get messy, trust me, I’ve been there before. Out of them, I think I’d kill Angelina,” Grif let out a fake gasp, “Well, she’s a babe, but she cannot compare to to how buff Brad Pitt looked in ‘Troy’, those muscles still give me wet dreams,” Everyone in the company groaned in disgust, “Shut up. But whether just to fuck him, or to marry him.” Tucker passed for a moment in thought. Wash was surprised, this was the deepest thought he had seen Tucker engage in. “I think Scarlett Johansen would be a better one-timer, Brad would care for me you know. So kill Jolie, fuck Scarlett, and marry the gorgeous Brad.”  
“You have a creepy obsession with Brad Pitt, my friend,” Grif said.  
“I do like my muscular men,” Tucker said, giving a glance to Washington.

“Your turn,” Tucker said to Grif, “Okay, Dexter Grif, fuck, marry, kill: Beyonce, Kim Kardashian, and Cher."  
"I'm going to have to disappoint you here, Lavernius Tucker, but I will have to kill Beyonce," Grif said.  
"You are dead to me," Tucker responded. Simmons agreed silently but didn't want to draw attention to himself, lest he was dragged into the game.  
"Listen. Cher, although she's quite old, she is an icon, I couldn't kill her"  
"So why not kill Kim!" Tucker said, true exasperation in his voice.  
"She has a nice butt. Granted Beyonce does too, but I feel Kim's is nicer. I am an ass-man. So I would fuck the Kardashian, and marry Cher."  
"I hate you. Murderer" Tucker said with indignation.

"Washington?" Grif asked.  
"No."  
"Come on," Tucker begged.  
"No, Tucker. I think this game is ridiculous and stupid," Washington said, not even turning around.  
"Fine then. Simmons?" Grif asked. Simmons' mind went into panic mode.  
"I agree with Washington, I think this game is brainless," Simmons said.  
"You guys are boring," Grif said.

"Did you hear that?" Washington asked.  
"Grif talking? Yes, Washington," Tucker said sarcastically.  
"No, it sounded like..." As Washington paused a distant sound of barking could be heard.  
"It's just Kai, isn't it?" Simmons asked timidly.  
"No, she's only like one hundred meters away, that sounded much further," Grif said, confirmed by the sight of Kai running back towards them. Out of the forest, which had grown very close to them during their game, a large wolf, far greater in size than Kai walked out. It's hungry gazed was focused on them. Washington instinctively reached for his pistol he always stored in his coat.

"Aren't wolves pack animals?" Simmons asked, And sure enough, four other wolfs appeared between the trees of the forest. As they started running towards their group of severely unprepared men, Tucker shouted angrily: "Simmons, next time, just don't say anything."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Summer!


	14. Stranger

Simmons felt his heart pounding in his chest. Not only in his chest, but he could feel it pulsing in his fingertips and toes. The wolves were now bounding towards him, and it looked like all their eyes were focussed on him. They had only just left the bunker, and they were all going to die. Simmons started backing away, leaving the responsibility to Washington. Hopefully, this decision would work in his favour. Simmons was not a courageous person, and as he stepped back, a familiar sense of fear took over him, partly inspired by the wolves, but also with the faint echoes of his father's disappointment ringing in his ears. In another time, Simmons might have been diagnosed with PTSD, but now, seconds from being torn to death by wolves was not the time.

Washington fired a bullet from his gun, and though the wolves seemed momentarily stunned by the loud noise, their attack was unhindered. These wolves had probably never grown to fear a gun or humans. The next shot hit a wolf directly, and it dropped dead. Instead of discouraging the wolves, this only seemed to anger them, as though they were a swarm of bees and they ran the final stretch so they were on top of Wash and the others, teeth barred and biting ferociously. Wash felt the call of impending doom as he felt a wolf bite into his leg. The pain was sudden and great, and as he was falling his gun flew out of his hand. It landed too far for Wash to reach again, and he just reached for it in vain. He saw his companions fall down from wolf attacks around him.

Washington cried out in pain as he felt the wolf take a stronger bite out of his leg. Suddenly, the wolf seemed to back off, and Wash looked down at his body in confusion. The first thing that he noticed was not his blood-stained leg, but a lit flare which was producing excessive amounts of smoke. The wolf had backed away from fear, leaning in occasionally as though wanting to attack, but too afraid of the threat of fire to attack. Making sure that the wolf was a safe distance away, before he went over to his fallen companions who were also getting attacked, brandishing the flare. The wolves all coward away in fear, though they still stayed close to the company, who were cowering behind Wash and his flare.

"Why are you standing 'round like you're looking at a piece of art in May? Get running!" They heard someone shout in a gruff southern accent from behind them, somewhere in the forest. They did not need to be asked twice, and all ran in the direction of the voice. Wash occasionally would turn around to ward off the wolves.

They came to within close range of the trees and out came Kai, seemingly aware of her master's pain, and confronted the wolves. She stood firm, and would not allow them to pass. Though they were physically bigger than her, she retained dominance. The wolves seemed to back down and walked away from them in defeat. Grif praised her excessively, whilst breathing heavily.

"That makes no sense," Wash said, taking a breath between each word.   
"Well there was a zoo in Austin, it makes sense that the wolves would have escaped and become wild," Simmons offered equally out of breath.   
"No, not that. The whole thing with Kai. That literally makes no sense," Washington said.  
"Why are you complaining?" The same gruff voice which had advised them before spoke out again. They all turned to see the source of the voice and saw a man in all red.   
"I guess I shouldn't. Was it you who threw the flare?" Washington asked.  
"Do you see anyone else here?" The man asked Washington shook his head stupidly.   
"Thank you," Washington said, and the other three repeated the sentiment.   
"You may be all thanks now, but how do I know you won't try to kill me?"  
"You'll just have to trust us," Washington said. The man seemed to consider this for a moment .  
"The name's Sarge," the man said.  
"I'm Washington. This is Tucker, Grif and Simmons,"

"What brings you here?" Sarge said, after the introductions.  
"We're going to Austin," Tucker said, deliberately evading some important information, the man may have saved them, but doesn't mean he could be trusted.   
"Austin?" the man asked quietly, his voice seeming almost scared, though Tucker could not pinpoint the emotion exactly. "I'm coming with you."  
"Wait, what?" Grif said.  
"You need me. You're injured, and you need a warm place to rest. I can help you with that and in return, I will come with you," Sarge said, in the most serious tone they had heard him use. Washington simply nodded, and the others were too much in pain to disagree. Washington also began to feel the throbbing pain in his leg, but at the same time, became conscious of the heavy weight of the gun that he had stowed away in his jacket. Just in case.

Sarge began to lead them all further into the woods, and the others followed with mild caution. Eventually, they came to a wood cabin. Grif struggled to see how this was "somewhere warm to stay" but didn't want to complain and risk not getting anywhere to stay, and being out in the open. Surprisingly, on the inside, it was warmer than on the inside, though the air was thick, and space was cramped with five fully grown men and a dog inside it. Sarge, after shedding off a few layers of clothing, revealing a head of grey hair, then walked over to a small fireplace and proceeded to light it.

Immediately, Washington began to tend to his wounded leg, getting supplies out of their bags, cleaning the wound with peroxide, and barely flinching. Tucker would not deny that the strong man image turned him on at that moment, but no one asked him as they were all tending to their own wounds. Tucker decided to do the same, feeling a stinging in his lower arm.

Simmons realised that nothing had pierced his skin, thankfully, and turned his attention to Sarge again.  
"Why do you want to go to Austin so bad?" he asked.  
"I left someone there. Emily Grey. I regretted it every day since. I was forced out of the city on a mission from the Federal Army, and I couldn't get back in because the Rebels control the border of the city, and I couldn't fight them off without my men. I've been trapped here for almost a year now."  
"You came from Austin? We could help each other more than I previously thought," Washington said.  
"I don't know how much fighting spirit you boys have, but I appreciate the sentiment," Sarge said, a bit too ominously for Grif's liking, but he was too busy binding a wound on his left thigh.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's getting hard to keep track of all these characters :))))


	15. Walk

It took a few days for the company's wounds to heal. Wash refused to waste any more time. Who knows how many people those savages had killed by now. They needed to be stopped before the damage got too great. Now that there wasn't an official government, people were allowed to essentially do what they needed, or rather, wanted to do in order to survive. That's what the freelancers were trained to prevent. Washington, Maine, all of the others who died for a more peaceful world, and even though the organisation had broken apart (mostly due to the insane amount of deaths) Washington still believed strongly in the cause. Therefore, Washington had to make sure these two maniacs were taken down. Also, they had killed Maine, who Washington believed it was impossible to get a paper cut on that man. The image of him lying in the snow, lifeless, gaunt, haunted Wash's nights. More often than not, Tucker would wake him up and attempt to calm him again, apparently having experience from Grif when his sister was killed, by the same maniacs. They had a shared cause, this was clear, and they could not waste time anymore.

Although he tried to explain this dilemma to Sarge, their unorthodox rescuer was not concerned with this at all.   
"The two main loves in my life," Sarge explained, "are my shotgun and Emily Grey. The world can end, but if either of those things become compromised, then I don't know what my purpose would be anymore."  
"You really love Emily," Simmons said as everyone began to get ready to leave Sarge's forest cabin.  
"Grey is the most important person to me. If she got hurt, I could never forgive myself," Sarge said. Simmons felt that we would love to have someone think about him that way. He had never had someone genuinely and wholeheartedly fear for his life. Even his mother, who tried to protect him, had to be more concerned with her own safety first. It had been years since he felt so much for someone and those feeling were reciprocated. In the midst of these thoughts, he noticed that he was now staring at Grif, point blank. Thankfully Grif had not noticed, but unfortunately Tucker. and grew red from embarrassment. He always seemed to be caught in embarrassing moments of deep thought, and always by Tucker. It's no wonder Tucker had figured out Simmon's feelings towards Grif.

Sarge, on the other hand, was completely oblivious to the romantic tensions in the group. He, to the shock of even Washington, was ready faster than the rest of them and was yelling commands to get them out of his cabin, and on the way to Austin. Sarge had made this same journey several times before, even found the fastest route. He hadn't made it out the city, without Emily Grey, and had not even attempted to get back in. The problem was he still had the federation gear, and he stuck out like a sore thumb among the rebels, and never even made it to their roughly patched up city walls without being shot at. Sarge had several scars which were a constant reminder of his failures. Now, things were different. He had a larger group of people, safety in numbers. He was certain that Grif would be the first to die, he was unsure about Simmons, though he felt a fatherly need to protect him, seeing as he had placed Sarge as a leader, trumping even Washington. In Sarge's opinion, Washington was a far superior soldier than he was, though he knew that to be because the freelancers were notorious, their leader having links to the FBI, which gave them better equipment and training. Tucker certainly was in awe of the agent, though Sarge had no respect for Tucker, maybe it was his cyan outerwear, something about Tucker put Sarge on edge.

Sarge was leading the party through the forest, knowing the exact trees to take a turn by. Simmons was confused and doubtful that Sarge actually knew where he was going.  
"Listen, he tried to shoot me half an hour ago," Grif said, "I just think we ought to follow him, just in case he gets mad or something and attacks us all."  
"You were moving too slowly dirtbag," Sarge said as though this was an adequate defence.   
"Sarge, do you know how far exactly Austin is?" Washington asked, wanting to break up the argument he had heard at least three times already.   
"Two days journey, at least," Sarge said.  
"Two days?" Tucker repeated in disbelief, "Washington, we are not walking for two days straight," If anyone could even try to persuade Washington, it would be Tucker. Over the past few days, the two grew an unconventional relationship which led them to trust each other.  
"I second that," Grif said.  
"I have to agree, it seems illogical to waste energy walking in sub-zero temperatures during the night, where our progress will be worse than if we stopped for a rest," Simmons added.  
"What the nerd said," Grif added. Despite the insult, Simmons blushed at Grif's validation.   
"Well, we can't just stop in the middle of nowhere," Washington said. They were now approaching the edge of the forest, and all Washington could see was an open area, with no form of shelter. If those maniacs found them before they found the maniacs, they would have no shelter or protection. It just would not be worth the risk.  
"I know a place where we can stay overnight," Sarge said, "It will take us slightly off track, but I'm pretty sure it's empty."  
"Pretty sure?" Washington said dubiously.   
"It's worth the risk, Tucker said. Washington looked at him and was won over by his searching eyes.  
"Fine, but I'm blaming you personally if this goes wrong," Washington said, pointing at Tucker.

Sarge altered their course slightly and took them across the open expanse. After a while, they saw a structure break the horizon. From what it seemed, it wwas just the roof of a house, the rest was completely submerged under snow. As they got closer, they saw that there was a window on the roof. That would be their way in..


	16. House

The five men stood around the glass window, exposed on the icy roof of Sarge's convenient house. Grif was holding onto Simmons because he kept on slipping, and although Simmons was flattered that Grif put that much faith in him, he also wanted Grif to let go, because he was also going to fall down at any second.

"So how do we break in?" Tucker asked.  
"We could fire a bullet through it," Sarge suggested, aiming his ever-present shotgun at the centre of the glass.  
"No," Wash interrupted "We don't want people to hear us and know where we are. If we had something heavy to break it maybe."  
"I have an axe," Grif said. The others considered this and figured in was worth a try at least. The sun was low in the sky and was reflecting off the snow and glaring into their eyes, a warning that it would soon be dark, and therefore far more dangerous than their relatively calm situation at the present moment.

Grif held the axe high above his head. He had never swung an axe with intent before, there weren't many lumberjack opportunities in his life, so he was basing his action on what he had seen in horror films. He just hoped he didn't miss because that would make him look even more incompetent, also he may hit someone's foot. Sure enough, however, the axe's strike it the glass, and shattered it out into a spiderweb pattern, centring at the axe's point. It took several shorter swings before a space big enough for them to pass down into without damage. Wash was the first to jump down, his landing marked by the crunch of glass which had fallen through. As the rest followed, they observed their surroundings. Though it was dark, the light from the broken window revealed that this was an office space in the attic. Though it only consisted of a desk, an old computer, and a desk chair, it was clear that the room had not been in use for a long time, with dust only on the items surfaces, rather than being shifted around by use, even their feet left slightly cleaner footsteps behind them around the dust.

They all pulled out their torches and shone about the room, and further into the house one they descended the stairs. They came down to the first floor and explored the rooms there, remaining silent. The main room had the same unused feel as the loft space. The kitchen had the exact same feel, to the extent that they didn't notice what was in it until Tucker cursed out loud. On the kitchen chair was a man who seemed to be around ninety years old. He was deathly still, and deathly seemed to be the right word as while Wash approached him, the man remained still, and Wash could see that the man's eyes had clouded over. He reached out to check the man's pulse but gave up when he felt the stone cold temperature of his skin.

"What do we do?" Simmons asked, "We can't just leave him here."   
"We bury him. Outside his house," Grif said  
"He will just stay like that he won't...decay," Tucker said.  
"It's just respectful," Grif argued. The others agreed, though no one took a step forward to deal with the situation. It was Tucker who broke the stasis in the room and made for the body when he had trouble lifting the man, Wash stepped in to help, and they managed to get the body through the glass window. Once they had dug a deep enough hole in the snow and began to cover him over, Tucker felt he should say something.

"Sorry for breaking your window, but your legacy will go on dude," Tucker said as the body was deeply submerged in snow.   
"Tucker-"Wash began.  
"What? I didn't know him, it's the best I could come up with."  
"No, it's not that. When I first met you, I thought you were an annoying, and useless hindrance to my plans," Tucker rolled his eyes but nodded in agreement "But recently, I've seen that you take on responsibilities, and look out for your friends too, especially when I haven't been thinking about you guys. Thank you, Tucker."  
"We survived before you turned up," Tucker said bitterly.  
"I-I know, I was merely saying-," Wash said.  
"I know what you were saying, but it's patronising, so stop."  
Wash felt like he wanted to express his appreciation for Tucker's companionship more, but couldn't think of what to say, because nothing could express how he was really feeling, so he followed Tucker back into the house.

Simmons and Grif had made it down to the cellar together and were trying to get the generator running again, to bring some heat and light to the house.   
"Could you move the light this way?" Simmons asked.  
"How do you know what you're doing anyway?"   
"The generators in the apartment I had in Austin would die all the time, I just sort of learnt how to deal with them," Simmons said.   
"You're a really useful person to have around, I'm glad I saved you," Grif said.  
"I'm glad you saved me too," Simmons said, more to himself. With one final pull to a lever on the generator, Simmons shouted a go-ahead to Sarge.

"It worked!" Sarge called down.  
"What worked?" an out of breath Tucker asked.   
"Look!" Sarge said enthusiastically switching the lights on and off again repeatedly. "Good work there, son," Sarge said to Simmons who emerged at that moment.  
"You got a spiderweb in your hair," Grif said to Simmons, dusting the cobweb from Simmon's red hair, and his face turned equally red at the attention.

They waited a few hours for the generator to get the heat in the house working, but eventually they got enough heat that they could take off their thermal layers. Grif, in his new found freedom, explored the house in greater detail and found an old box of old records. To his surprise, he found one he recognised and put it in the record player, after the initial telltale crackle, 'Do I worry?' by Tommy Dorsey started playing. Simmons came into the room enticed by the music. Grif spotted him and smiled a genuine smile, for the first time, Simmons thought, since they first ran into Locus and Felix. The smile was contagious, and Simmons smiled back.   
"The old woman who used to look after Kai and me when we were really young used to force us to listen to these songs, it's only now that I'm beginning to appreciate them really," Grif explained.  
"It's a nice song," Simmons said, and he noticed he was swaying in time with the music, but stopped in embarrassment. Grif laughed, but took one of Simmons' hands, and wrapped another around his waist, and they began to sway together.  
"Tell anyone about this and I will bury you next to the guy Tucker buried earlier," Grif warned.  
"Noted."

Simmons felt himself relax into the movement, after all, they had gone through, and all Simmons knew was going to come, he knew this would be a rare opportunity, and so embraced it. The song came to and end and the next one that played was one Grif knew to be called 'Two In Love', and broke off from Simmons, but before any questions could be asked, Tucker walked into the room.

"Could we play something more upbeat?" Tucker asked, heading straight for the box of records.   
"I don't know, you can see," Grif said, his smile fading from his face.  
"I think I'm going to head to bed, it's been a long day," Simmons said. He left the room, not really caring if the others had heard him or not. On his way up, he passed Sarge and Washington who were arguing over strategies and plans. Instead of heading into a bedroom, Simmons continued upstairs, where he had left his outdoor gear, quickly out it on, and headed out of the house, into the darkness of the night.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slightly longer chapter this time :)


	17. Actions

The house was becoming silent again. Grif, after being in a bitter mood since Tucker's timely entrance, decided to go to bed too. Tucker slunk back to the planning room with Wash and Sarge but remained quiet as he listened to their discussions, of how and where and when exactly they could enter Austin with the highest chance of success. Tucker knew that this meant there was a chance that he, or Grif, or any of them could be injured or worse killed. That wasn't the way he could be thinking, not just before they were going to attack the city. Tucker forced his thoughts to think of other things, like...fishing. Tucker groaned at how pathetic that sounded even in his own head, but the other two in the room didn't notice him. Instead, they just continued talking to each other, something about city walls. Now his narcissistic side was hurt too. He rested his arms on the unoccupied area of the planning table, in a sort of petty protest, but also because he was getting tired. He rested his head in the crook of his elbow and felt himself drift off to sleep.

When he was roused awake, it was by Wash, who's hair looked like he had been pulling it in frustration, and his eyes looked tired.

"Tucker, let's get you to an actual bed," Wash said, pulling Tucker up.   
"You want to join me?" Tucker said, with a tired smirk on his face, in return, he got a tired and scornful look. As Tucker was being pulled up, he wrapped his arm around Wash's waist so that his weight was being supported by Wash. "I heard your sappy speech earlier, Wash."  
"I don't know what you mean," Wash said, but Tucker sensed nervousness in his voice. They were close together, and Tucker could feel Wash's heart beating rapidly. Their faces were also close together. Though he was looking up at Wash, it was clear that Tucker was the one in charge. He was the one who was drawing them closer together, while Wash remained stoic and still, not seemingly reacting in any way. Tucker was not going to give up, however. He continued moving closer until he felt the ghostly touch of Wash's lips against his. Wash seemed to have also felt this as he parted his lips slightly, and Tucker could feel the traces of his warm breath against his own skin. Tucker pulled back slightly, unsure of whether he was pushing any boundaries between them that didn't have to be pushed, but Wash followed equally, meaning that they were always the same tantalising distance apart, the smallest brush of lips. Tucker boldly moved forward, completing the kiss, only closing his eyes when Wash relaxed and followed him.

The kiss wasn't a fit of mad passion, with a final release of tension between them, culminating in this one moment. Rather it was tentative, Wash unsure if he should let himself enjoy this, he was physically, but his mind was in turmoil as to whether this was right. Tucker, on the other hand, did not want to come on too strong and scare Wash away. He had wanted to do this for days now, and they both were enjoying the slow pace they were setting between each other. Everything around Wash became muted. He didn't know, or care, what his surroundings were. The only thing he knew was that he was happy just where he was, and it had been a long time since he had felt like this. In honesty, he didn't want this moment to end. When Tucker pulled away, Wash rested his forehead against Tucker's.

"I can feel you stressing," Tucker whispered. Wash didn't feel like explaining that he wanted more but didn't want to get distracted from what he had set out to do. That he had not let anyone make him feel this way for years, and of all people in the world, it was Tucker that made him feel again.  
"It's been a long day," Wash settled with. His voice came out rough, which in a way added effect to his words.   
"That is the most truthful thing you've said all day. I think there might be a spare bedroom upstairs for us," Tucker offered. Wash nodded, though in his mind he was still unsure.

They went upstairs, and Tucker opened a door to one of the bedrooms. The light from the outside cast onto the sleeping form of Grif and Tucker presumed he was next to Simmons, seeing as the two were rarely apart. Instead, Tucker tried the next room across and having found it empty, invited Wash in with him.

"I know we said that we were going to sleep, but, right now, I kind of want to do something else," Tucker said in hushed tones. Wash neither said, nor did anything, but stood stoic as Tucker started approaching him tentatively. By the time Tucker reached him, Wash had made up his mind and met Tucker half way, pulling him up into a kiss.

When Grif went up the room and found it empty, he presumed Simmons was in another room, and so drifted off to sleep easily. Simmons, on the other hand, was walking in the deep snow, in the dead of night. If he thought he knew cold, during the days, the nights were far worse. Usually, only his hands, feet, and face felt the sting of the cold, but now it felt like the cold was attacking him, through his many layers of thermals, and gnawing at his bones. That didn't really seem to matter, though, he needed to be outside, where he was certain that he would not be disturbed. His thoughts were a distraction enough.

In his mind, he knew that his last interaction with Grif, dancing, to music from the forties, alone, Simmons knew that it had meant something. Simmons recalled the way Grif smiled when Simmons entered the room, how at home they had both been in each other's arms, and how vexed Grif had been when Tucker interrupted them. Then again, it could all be in his head, he could just be interpreting things the way he wanted to see them because he wanted it. But then what if it wasn't. God, he felt like love struck teenager. Ever since Grif had saved him, Simmons had felt indebted to Grif, and those feelings of being grateful, developed into friendship, and then into.

Simmons was cold at this point, it was clouding over his thoughts and judgement. He wasn't good to anyone dead, nor would he ever find the answers he was looking for. With a sense of defeat, Simmons turned around where he stood and went back towards the buried house. He felt a sense of defeat, at this decision, but there were bigger things than him.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not going to lie, I'm pretty proud of this chapter.


	18. Bed

Simmons came back through the broken window of the house, creating a soft thud as he landed on the wooden floor of the loft. He could already feel the heat that the house was producing through his thermals. Walking down towards the bedrooms, Simmons was thankful that he had fixed the generator in the house, as he was freezing. His teeth were chattering uncontrollably, despite the warm conditions around him. It didn't help that his clothes were damp from the snow outside and that he was exhausted, which made battling the cold he exposed himself to unbearable.

Simmons carefully opened the door to one of the bedrooms, only to find Wash and Tucker sprawled out over each other, and very naked. Simmons felt his cheeks burn red, and quickly shut that door, not wanting to know anything else, hoping that he could get that image burned out of his head by morning.

The next door he tried had Sarge sleeping in it. As much as he respected the man, he knew that if he decided to sleep in his room, things would be weird. Sarge would not appreciate it for one, and Simmons would feel so awkward the whole night, he wouldn;t be able to sleep. He needed sleep bad, he was so tired and still cold.

In reality, Simmons knew there was only one person he was comfortable sharing a room with, only one person he wanted, needed, to share a room with. When he got to Grif's room, though, he was annoyed to find there was only one King sized bed. The fates had decided to be cruel to him it seemed. If he stayed close to the edge of the bed, hopefully, Grif wouldn't freak out, and neither would Simmons.

Simmons quickly removed his outer layer of clothing, leaving the wet clothes in a spread out formation, in the hopes they would dry by morning. Grif had cocooned himself in the covers, leaving none for Simmons, but compared to the cold of the outside, Simmons was not going to complain. Instead, he lay down on the bed and tried to fall asleep quickly.

"Did you go outside?" he heard Grif say hoarsely.  
"No," Simmons said, he was always a bad liar, so keeping it short was better.  
"Your teeth are chattering, and you're literally radiating cold. I didn't even know that was possible and yet here we are." Grif said Simmons did not reply, but forcefully took some of the sheets from Grif, huffing indignantly at being caught. "Why did you go outside?"   
"To think," Simmons said quickly.  
"About what?" Grif asked, again he received no reply. Grif sighed and turned so that he was facing Simmons now, or rather his back. "It's weird because death never seems like a real thing. It's just something you hear about, or it's in a book, or a movie, it's never real. Until it is real, and then you don't know what to do with yourself after. That's one thing they never tell you in movies." Grif said. It was a spontaneous confession, nothing he'd ever really said before to anyone, but he felt like if he confessed something emotional then Simmons would too.

Simmons, however, did not reply at all but remained completely motionless.   
"Fine," Grif said curtly and rolled onto his back.   
"Nothing is like it is in movies." Simmons piped up "I don't know who writes them, but those people haven't actually lived. Or just don't know how to truly express it. Then again how can you? How can you externalise feelings of grief, hurt, confusion? Some feelings are so familiar that they don't need to be visualised, others are so foreign, we don't know what we're looking it at until it happens."  
"That was pretty deep," Grif said. The two were in silence for a while, processing thoughts while the sound of their breathing filled the room.

"I think Tucker and Washington are fucking," Simmons said, turning his head to face Grif, who himself fully turned around to face Simmons.  
"Oh yeah, Tucker's aways struggled with volume control, thankfully he also struggles with lasting more than ten minutes," Grif said. Simmons smiled at that, which broke into a laugh, Grif laughed with him, trying to keep quiet.

As they calmed down, their gazes rested on each other, looking at each other through the darkness.  
"I'm really glad I saved you," Grif said gently.  
"You've said that," Simmons replied.  
"I mean it," Grif said.

There was a brief pause again, where Grif seemed to be contemplating for a moment before he leant over Simmons and briefly kissed him. Before Grif could move away, Simmons pulled Grif towards him, pulling him in to kiss him again. He was embarrassed to come across as needy, but that was only a minor thought in the back of his mind, considering what else was happening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shorter chapter this time to help rid me of my writers' block.


	19. Austin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a while, I know. But, hey, I'm back now. I will probably only have time in the holidays to write as I am in my last year of school, and it is very stressful. I promise I won't give up though. Thanks for sticking around <3

The next night was greatly different from the night that preceded it. They had decided that they wanted to attempt to get into Austin under relative darkness, but the night was too cold, so an attack under the cover of twilight would have to suffice. This, and on account of the two-day journey to Austin, meant they had to make use of the tent they had brought with them. The setting up of the tent was an obvious cause for argument, with both Wash and Sarge insisting  that they knew the correct way to set up a tent, of course, those two methods being entirely different. Grif took the opportunity to not do anything at all. He took Simmons aside at one point when he could tell that he was being more of a hindrance than a help.

“Simmons, we haven’t talked about what happened last night,” Grif said. Simmons knew this was coming, he had been avoiding Grif all day, from the moment he woke up. Grif was sure to tell him that it was a mistake, and they should just pretend that it never happened. Or, Grif would tease him, make fun of him for being so eager. “Did I do something wrong?” Grif asked, a genuine tone of guilt and worry coming through.  
“No!” Simmons said quickly. So Grif didn’t regret it? Regaining himself he said: “I’ve not done anything like this in a long time, I’m just…” Simmons trailed off, but Grif seemed to understand, and nodded. He tried to comfort Simmons by pressing his forehead against his, trying to show an understanding. It was clear to them both that this wasn’t a one-time mistake, but instead, a long time coming.

It was a tight squeeze the tent that night, considering there were 5 men and a dog. The lack of space was not so much of an issue when the cold of night sunk in and stealing another person's body heat was acceptable. Simmons may have been sandwiched between Kai and Grif, but every surface that wasn't touching either one of them was frozen raw. Tucker had been curled into Wash but had gradually moved closer to Grif to steal his heat too. Wash was mostly indifferent, having experienced far worse in his freelancer days, but was still grateful for the extra heat he received, even from Sarge's presence, though slightly distant from him.

As Washington lay awake, waiting to fall asleep, he regarded his relationship with Tucker. Tucker seemed to have treated Wash with more affection throughout the day, and Wash didn’t push him away. Which meant that something was growing between them. Yet, he couldn't help but be concerned with Tucker's loyalty. He had only been in the group's company for a short period of time, but he had grown fully aware that Tucker was not always the most faithful, and that he had a reputation for being licentious. He felt Tucker's arm wrap around him tighter, as though he could hear Wash's doubts, and was reassuring him. Somehow, this was comfort enough, he would just have to be trusting.

The next day brought more walking. Their feet had blisters and more burst blisters. The pain in their legs from the intense movement was damaging, their wounds from the encounter with the wolves did not help, and above all, they felt tired. They barely spoke to each other, just encouraging touches to tell one another to keep going.

Their efforts did not go unrewarded, however, when they saw the first settlements on the outskirts of Austin. The company must have looked a mess, blood splattered on them, mostly their own, unwashed for several days, and slugging their feet through the snow. This seemed irrelevant, even as the suburban residents stared at them unabashedly, as they could see the make-shift walls of the war-occupied centre of Austin The walls were tall and daunting. Even from here distant gunshots could be heard. This was what they were going to be entering, no one was ashamed of the cowardice that swept over them. 

As they got closer to the walls, they saw that it was mostly made of rubble from buildings and walls of shipment craters, parts of roads, a car door. A fast construction to separate the innocent suburbia from this who had allied themselves with either the rebels or the feds. And as the sun was beginning to set over them, the walls were covered in an orange glow. There was about a mile surrounding the walls, which was completely uninhabited. So the group was clearly visible as they approached the inner city. 

"Who are you?" they heard a voice say through a speaker that was not visible.   
"We want to get into the city," Grif said shrugging.  
"You can't just walk into the city! There's a war, and rules and- wait, that guy in the red, isn't he wearing federation armour?"  
"No," Grif said. Wash wanted to scream because of the stupidity which he was surrounded by. What made it worse, was that the guard was almost fooled by it.  
"No, I'm pretty sure it is," the guard said, "I'm going to come down and check, don't go anywhere." Wash rolled his eyes so dramatically, Tucker thought they would fall out of his head. At least they were sticking to  the plan.

As soon as the gate, which what seemed to be a door from an apartment building was opened up, Wash attacked the guard, killing him quickly and efficiently. There was not even time for the man to scream. Was searched the man and found a keycard in his armour. Wash used the keypad on the gates, there was a beep and a green light, and the magnetic seal on the door released. Wash pushed through and indicated the rest to follow him. The body of the guard lay motionless on the ground. Simmons looked at it with horror, and realised that this would not be the last dead bod he would see, or be responsible. These thoughts clouded his mind as he finally walked into the city of Austin. All Grif could think of, however, was how he was finally closer to obtaining the revenge for Kai he had been lusting after for so long. He just had to find the two maniacs within the city walls. Wash was certain that they were here, and now no other option seemed even plausible.

 


	20. Freeway

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas, guys. Sorry, but this chapter is a sad one :(. Love you guys <3

“Great, we’re in the city. Now, what?” Grif asked as they hid in the shadows of the tall make-shift walls of the city of Austin.  
“We get Emily,” Sarge said, looking out to nowhere.  
“That’s great but, we aren’t here for Emily,” Wash said indicating to the rest of the company, “We’re here for the murderers.”  
“We don’t even know where they are, or if they’re here, we just walked into a war zone, with no real reason to be here,” Simmons said, his voice getting higher pitched and his words getting faster as he spoke. Grif placed his hands on his shoulders facing him head on, looking into his eyes.   
“Simmons, it’s the only lead we’ve got. Sure, it isn’t strong, but I know I have to keep going, for Kai.” at the mention of her name, Kai nuzzled into Grif’s leg, “But we do need to figure a way into the city.”  
“How about the freeway?” Tucker asked, “Runs north to south, we’re about two miles from it I think.”  
“Sounds like a good plan,” Wash said, “Sarge, what do you know about the freeway?”   
“It was abandoned last time I was in the city, it should take us straight to the fed base…straight to Emily.”  
“Alright, the freeway it is, let’s go” 

They snuck around the walls, making sure they were clear of rebel soldiers before they ran straight to the ice-covered expanse of the freeway. All the lanes were covered in untouched snow, it seemed that Sarge was right and the freeway was abandoned. It felt like they had been walking all their lives. No matter how far they walked, they never seemed closer to their goal. No matter how far they walked, though, it was worth it, because once they stopped walking, then the real danger would begin.

They had been walking for an hour, talking about how they could find signs of who they were trying to find. None of their plans really seemed truly conceivable, but luck seemed to be on their side so far. Maybe God or the fates or karma or whatever other celestial otherworldly force was looking out for them. 

It seemed that their luck ran out. They saw the silhouettes of men in the distance, they knew they men saw them because they started running towards them. They didn’t even have anywhere to hide, they were surrounded by open road. They were about to turn around, but Sarge started running straight towards them. Their calls after him were no use, and soon there were gun shots. 

“Woah woah, what the sane hell are you doing?” Sarge started yelling “I’m one of you guys.”  
The rest of the company were seized, their arms held behind their backs.   
“We better just shoot ‘em,” one of the men said,”I can’t be bothered to deal with anything else today,”  
“I told you boys-“ Sarge began  
“Boys?” a female voice said, “we should definitely shoot them,” she said raising her gun.  
“Oh dang, I’m sorry. I’m a fed, I can prove it, just look in my jacket pocket. I have my ID card. Just look,” The woman gave the ok and the man holding him, pulled out an ID card. They considered it for a while and seemed to be satisfied with it.   
“Thank you,” Sarge said, “I just want to return to the base.”  
“Wait, what about the rest of them?”   
“Is Dr Emily Grey ok?” Sarge asked.  
“Grey? How long have you been gone?” one of the soldiers asked. Sarge felt his knees go weak.   
“Is she dead?”  
“No…you’ll see her for yourself. First answer our goddamn question, who are these people?”  
“I don’t care, just take them, prisoner, just as long as I get to see Emily soon,” Sarge said, the others gave him vile looks, as they felt the grip on their arms tighten and a gun be held to their heads.  
“Alright, let's go back to base and just get this day over with,” the woman said.  
“Hey, boss? What do we do about this dog?” one of the soldiers said, indicating to Kai, who was innocently sitting next to her master.  
“You gonna adopt a pet now? Well sorry, there aren’t the resources or the time. Just shoot it,” The woman said.  
“No!” Grif cried out, but it was in vain, there was a gunshot and Kai’s lifeless body was on the ground in front of him, bleeding out, for the second time in his life.


	21. Dr Emily Grey

"Sargent," said the man in the white suit with gold finishes. He was standing in a large office, one which Sarge had known to belong to another general. " I am General Doyle, I took over after our previous general was shot by a rebel, may his soul rest in peace. I have asked to see you as we need to reassign you. Of course, you are allowed as much rest as the doctor's and you deem necessary, but you must remember that we are in a war. I will be honest with you, Sarge, we have been losing recently. Our men keep going out on missions, and not returning, and their mutilated remains are returned to us. We don't know the exact cause as of now. My advisors tell me that blame lies with the new rebel leader General Kimball. I am not so sure, this is not her usual behaviour. But I digress, I am very pleased you have managed to come back to us. Your efforts will be rewarded. Here is your comms kit, just turn it on and it should start working instantly. First I need you to go to the medical bay, further orders will be given to you in due course."  
"Medical bay? Is Dr Emily Grey around?" Sarge asked.  
"Dr Grey? I'm not sure, you will have to ask once you get there. I may be general, but I can't keep track of everyone's schedule," Doyle said, with an amicable laugh. Sarge did not reciprocate it. Instead, he made his way down to the medical bay once he had been given a form.

He was growing anxious about everyone's ambiguity when it came to Grey. He had spent too long without her. She was the only thing that kept him alive in the Texan forest. At least he knew that she was alive.

He walked into the doors of the medical bay, a place he had seen many times, thankfully mostly by his own will. He would stay up late with Grey, keeping her company while she did paperwork or research. One perk of being on the government's side is that they provide funding for research, medical and otherwise if they think it will aid them in the war against the rebels. If he was honest, Sarge didn't really have any political opinion. He thought the Rebels were right to be mad at the feds for their behaviour, but creating a war over it was extreme. The feds had enlisted him once they had found him at a shooting range, he always was good with a rifle. They promised him food and shelter for his services, he couldn't say no, when only the week before his roof had collapsed under the weight of the snow. It also meant that he had met Dr Grey when he was first shot by a rebel soldier. HIs hand subconsciously rubbed the wound on his leg while he thought of that first moment with Emily.

He was immediately entranced by her. Hers was the first face he saw when he woke up from anaesthetics. He started talking to her straight away, and she was always keen to talk to him too. She was bubbly optimistic, borderline crazy at times. She was really keen to fit one of his privates with a metal arm, with a gun attachment. Of course, Sarge being a lover of machinery agreed, this also meant he had more of an excuse to be with Emily, and so the surgery took place. At the end of the surgery, Sarge decided to kiss Emily in his joy. That was when they had begun to be a couple. This was three years ago. The last time he had seen her was before he went on the mission which banished him from the city, over a year ago.

He suddenly found that he was escorted by a doctor he vaguely recognised and sat down on a medical bed. The doctor ran various tests on him, and once she was convinced that there weren't any problems, she gave him a cheery smile which meant that he was dismissed.

"I would like to see Dr Grey," Sarge said, the doctor's face grew pale.  
"Yes, I remember you two had a certain closeness," he replied. There was silence between them, and Sarge could feel himself grow angry.   
"Well son, then I'd appreciate if you'd take me to her."  
"Are you sure?"  
"Yes. I. Am. Sure! Now for the love of the federal army, could you take me to her." The doctor sighed, but still indicated to Sarge to follow him.

Something about the doctor's manner concerned Sarge. He followed him to her office, which was in the exact same place as it always was, but as soon as he walked in, he knew something was wrong. Grey's desk and the surroundings were usually covered in a mess of papers, and random mechanics, yet she always knew where everything was. The office which Sarge walked into now was well organised, there were no papers anywhere. That didn't seem to matter when Sarge saw the back of Emily's head, her hair tied up in a tight bun, he felt suddenly nauseous. She turned around when she heard that there were people in the room with her.

"Oh, Sarge, you have returned from your mission," She said in an almost robotic tone, barely recognising Sarge.  
"I have been gone for quite a while," was the only thing that Sarge could think to say.  
"Oh really? I'm a very busy lady, can't keep track of everything. Well, it's good you're back." She said with a false smile which didn't reach her eyes.  
"Emily...don't you remember me?" How could this be? They had been so close, they had been in love?  
"Of course I remember you, Sarge? I'm confused, is there something I'm not remembering?" She asked the other doctor.  
"No Emily, it doesn't matter, don't worry about it. Sarge, I think we should go now. Take care Emily," Sarge was pulled out of the room by his arm, and he couldn't take his eyes off the hollow shell that was Dr Emily Grey.

"What happened to her?" Sarge asked.  
"We went out to help soldiers on a mission, about six months ago. While she was tying a bandage on a private, there were two rebels that came out of nowhere, shot her with this dart like thing. They just sat and watched as Emily started to have a seizure. We tried to catch them but they disappeared into thin air. I still remember those sons of bitches' stupid green and orange outfits. After Emily stopped fitting, she was...like that, barely remembers anything about her life. It's outrageous. How did the rebels even get biological weapons, and why would they attack our doctors? Now all our free time is dedicated to producing something to hit them back, under General Doyles' instruction of course." the doctor said.

Sarge was furious. Someone had damaged his Emily's brilliant mind, reducing her to someone cooped up in an office. Someone who didn't even remember him. He didn't know if he blamed the rebels for attacking her, or the feds for letting her be attacked. He almost didn't care. He didn't care about anything anymore. The only thing that had kept him going this whole time was now gone.

"Sargent, this is General Doyle" SArge's thoughts were interrupted by the voice from his comms device. "It seems that the people you brought into the city have escaped. You are required to bring them back immediately."  
"Message received. I'm leaving base now." Sarge said.


	22. Prison

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meanwhile, Grif, Simmons, Tucker, and Washington are imprisoned.

Grif’s hands were fired behind his back uncomfortably, by one of the soldiers who then proceeded to push him forward. He couldn’t take his eyes off Kai’s limp body. Even as her blood was pooling out and beginning to stain his shoes, leaving small patches of blood in his footprints as he walked away. This was the second time Kai had been shot in front of his eyes, and he had been helpless to do anything about it. Useless. 

He heard some of the others struggling behind him. The thought of doing that didn’t even occur to him. He never felt more alone in the world. It seemed like everything he cared about was cruelly taken away from him. There was nothing he could do about it. He just had to stop caring about people, that would mean they wouldn't get hurt. He couldn’t bare to see anyone else get hurt around him. 

They walked a few miles before coming to a large building complex, all with the same symbol spray painted on them in gold paint. They went inside the plainest looking building, that consisted only of a redbrick building with a flat roof. It smelled metallic, rancid. Grif almost gagged at the overwhelming smell of it. It almost acted as a slap in the face that brought him back to earth. He looked at Tucker who just seemed angry at the whole situation. He wasn't looking up, but he was breathing heavily, and large clouds of his breath would gather round his face. Wash on the other hand held his head high, maintained a good posture, and seemed as calm as if he had chosen to walk into the prison himself. Then Grif turned his attention to Simmons. He looked terrified, his face was pale, and he seemed to be struggling to walk. His lip had been chewed raw with worry. He felt a pang of sympathy in his stomach. He had been so selfish, thinking about how he didn’t want to hurt anyone by caring for them; but he had never considered that he was hurting people more by not caring for them. They caught eyes for a brief second, and Grif felt that pang again. He wanted to comfort Simmons, tell him that everything was going to be fine, that they would get out of this, and they would do it together. He couldn’t do anything as his head was forced to forward again.

Thankfully they were all put in a cell together. When they walked to their cell they walked past many closed cells which he presumed were filled with rebel soldiers. Their cell had two bunkbeds and a toilet with a sink attached to it. The walls were a miserable cream cooler and the bedding was more grey than white. Grif sat down on the bottom bunk, resting his head in his hands. Wash took the top bunk opposite him and laid down peacefully. Tucker began pacing quickly, back and forth, across the length of the cell. Simmons stood in the corner, by the door, and just stared ahead if him. 

“I have not gotten this far, only to die in this cell,” Tucker spat out. Grif saw Simmons’ face turn pale.   
“We aren’t going to die in this cell,” Grif said.  
“Do you see a way out of this? We can’t even get out this cell, then we have to get out of the building, then the city. Or, we stay in the city and still try to find the murderers, all without getting caught ourselves.” Tucker ranted. Simmons’ knees seemed to give in and he just dropped to the floor. Grif shot Tucker an angry look as he walked over to Simmons to sit next to him.   
“I just can’t believe he betrayed us.” Simmons choked out. Of course Simmons had trusted too much in a man with authority, and had ended up getting hurt because of it. Grif could think of nothing else to do, but draw Simmons closer to him.  
“You all need to shut up,” Wash snapped from his bunk. Grif felt a wave of anger course through him, “I need to think of a way to get us out of this.”   
“And you’re the only one that can do that?” Grid said angrily, not in the mood to put up with Wash’s arrogance.  
“Yes, seeing as I am the only one who has experience on the field” Wash said, his voice raised, and he turned to face Grif. Grif was about to retort, but he felt Simmons’ hand pull him back, and surrendered, but still shot an angry glare at Wash.

Hours passed with the group either sitting in the cell in complete silence or falling into small arguments which followed a similar pattern. Grif was beginning to grow frustrated at there situation and it was only emphasised by the fact they could not figure a way out. Grif began to imagine his future life in this cell. Starting with where he would be in a week; probably in a similar situation to where he was now, with bitter arguments among the groups. In a month, the arguments would have stopped, but they would still feel angry about their situation. In a year, they would have probably accepted that this was how there life was going to be from now on, not that this made them feel any better. In five years… Grif did not want to think of that situation, that they could be here for that long. Grif looked at the room again and imagined what it would be like to see nothing but this for five years.

Grif’s thoughts were interrupted by the opening of the hatch on the door opened and a tray of brown slop was pushed through, attached to a pair of hands with the glimpse of a blue uniform visible.  
“Hello!” The man who the hands belonged to said. “My name is Caboose, and my friend Church told me to bring you your food because there was an…accident involving some hot milk, and a computer, so you haven't been put in yet. The accident was not my fault! Church got really angry at, he said he couldn’t work properly. Man, I sure feel bad for the person who did it.”  
Grif looked around the room at his companions and the others stared back is mild confusion. All apart from Wash who sat up for the first time since entering the room. He got off his bunk and walked towards the tray of food.  
“Hello, Caboose. My name is Washington, these are my friends Grif, Simmons and Tucker.” He took the tray of food, thanking the guard, Three more trays came through the hatch and each looked as grim as the last.   
“Caboose,” Washington said, “Tell me more about your friend Church,”   
“Oh! Church is my best friend. I see him everyday, and I talk to him all the time and he sometimes talks to me too. He is very very smart, so sometimes he’s too busy thinking to talk to me but I talk to him anyway,” Caboose said in a voice that reminded Grif of children who would show off about a toy they got.   
“Very smart, huh? Would you say he’s smart like a computer?” Washington asked.  
“Yes! I mean no. I need to go now.” The hatch was shut quickly and they heard hurried footsteps moving further and further away from them.

“What was that all about?” Tucker asked.  
“Church was the name given to an A.I. I remember hearing about it during project freelancer. It was a government project, trying to develop an A.I that needed no human input. Rumour had it, it developed a personality and therefore the project was scrapped. I have a feeling they wouldn’t delete the software that a lot of money went towards. I think it might gone towards a certain prison guard who still drinks hot milk,” Washington explained.  
“It’s quite a long shot, Washington,” Simmons said.  
“Well that might be our best chance of getting out. We’re going to have to convince Caboose to get Church to help us out.” Washington said.


	23. Persuasion

“Caboose, do you think we could meet your friend?” Washington asked, in hushed tones in the prison cafeteria. Wash had spent a very long time sweet talking him, building up his trust and hopefully what Caboose believed to e friendship. Caboose tugged on his cobalt blue uniform in hesitation, Wash had never seen anyone fit the phrase ‘deer caught in the headlights’ more. Caboose’s eyes had grown bigger and were staring in fear and sweat had began to appear on his forehead.   
“Wash, I don’t think I am allowed,” Caboose said.  
“Sure you are, buddy,” Tucker said encouragingly.  
“What if I get in trouble?” Caboose said in a very childlike way.  
“You won’t get in trouble, we will,” Wash said. Caboose seemed to consider this for a moment chewing his bottom lip a little.  
“Ok, I will show you Church. He’s my very special friend, you cannot tell anyone” Caboose said in a stage whisper. Was leaned in dramatically before saying:  
“I promise,” Caboose lifted up his pinky finger and Wash awkwardly wrapped his little finger around it. Caboose hurried away as Tucker began to laugh. Wash sent him a dark look which Tucker dismissed by kissing him briefly and continuing to laugh. 

From across the cafeteria they could hear dramatic groans, when they turned they saw Grif and Simmons melodramatically pretending to make out with each other, and breaking apart with laughter.   
“Assholes, just because we pretend like we don’t know what they do when they suddenly don’t want to be with us,” Wash said “ Then they have the audacity to mock us like children.”  
“Leave them,” Tucker said “Both of them are having a rough time right now, if mocking us and being with each other is helping them, then let them.”  
“You’re a very good person aren’t you?” Wash said.  
“And you’re not?” Tucker joked.  
“That’s a subjective, difficult question,” Wash said before gesturing to Grif and Simmons “Come on guys, we need to go to Church.”

“Church, you need to come out now, and talk to my friends.” Caboose said in his small office. The room was mostly dark, apart from a few blue lights that came out of what seemed to be a large computer. A buzzing noise came from the machine in response to Caboose, but nothing else happened. “I know, I know, but these are friends, we like them. They just want to see you. Trust me.”There was a brief pause before a small flicker of a figure appeared. It was just a generic male figure, but it appeared to have so much life.   
“Caboose, I must warn you this is not allowed” The figure said. The voice didn’t sound like it came from a machine or an automated system, it flowed and had the inflections of a real person. Everyone in the room, apart from Caboose looked at the five inch figure with amazement and slight fear.  
“Church, my name is Agent Washington, and you need to let us out of this prison,”   
“Washington, I can’t do that. It’s ridiculous you even asked, honestly. Why would I ever do it?” Church replied.  
“Is it me, or does this A.I have an attitude problem?” Tucker whispered.  
“We need to get out so that we can catch some murderers,” Grif said.  
“Murderers?” Church asked.  
“They killed my sister, Wash’s friend, and who knows how many others,” Grif said.  
“As much as a sympathise,” which they noted was said with some sarcasm “I cannot let you just let you walk out of this prison,”  
“How much of the system do you have access to?” Simmons asked.  
“The whole database,” Church said  
“Have you had any strange, unaccounted disappearances or murders?” Simmons asked. There was a brief moment where Church searched through his systems.  
“Yes, eight in the last week”  
“That’s them! Listen Church, we’ve experienced them, we know how dangerous they are. We need to stop them before things get out of hands.” Washington said.  
“Caboose, I will need to discuss this with you alone for a moment. The rest of you wait outside,” Church commanded.

They waited anxiously outside the office door, praying that they would be allowed to do what they had set out to do. After about 10 minutes, Caboose came out and beckoned them in.  
“So?” Tucker persisted.  
“We are allowing you to leave, as long as you take Caboose and I with you,” Church replied.“No offence, but I’m not carrying all of you,” Grif said indicating to the giant computer that was softly humming in the background, “Not really stealthy you know, and you may need to lose a couple of pounds.”  
“I have a backpack!” Caboose said cheerily, holding up a heavy looking backpack filled with wires and circuits.  
“I can perform a majority of my functions from that equipment. We want out of this prison, it’s kind of depressing” Church said.   
“Alright then,” Wash said, “As long as you guys are alright with it,”  
“Sure, we need more muscle, and it seems like our only solution,” Tucker said.  
“Great, wait until ten tonight in your bunk, then Caboose will show you the way from there,” Church said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I ever tell you that I hate writing long fics, particularly when I have school? This fic was going to be way longer, but I only really have the motivation to write a couple of chapters more. Particularly as this one is not really getting a massive response. I hope you all can understand.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you like this. Be sure to check out the author of chapters 1-4 peachycans.  
> If you liked it, feel free to leave a comment or kudos. I always reply to comments!!


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